Son of Mind and Bane
by SodiumChlouride12
Summary: Samuel is lost in a new world. He awakens in the home of Lady Lyn, and after a brief brush with death, they partake in a grand adventure. Together, they push their destinies past unforeseen horizons, but Samuel soon finds himself in an impasse. He must come to terms with demon living inside him, along with the evil puppeteer looking over it all. [Updated every Friday]
1. Extinguished

**Prologue: Extinguished**

 **By: SodiumChloride12, derived from Fire emblem, owned by Nintendo.**

 **A/N: Hi! When I first wrote this story, I did it with intentions of writing it like a shonen. But...priorities changed. Now it's kinda all over the place, with plenty of battles, romance, angst, and world exploration. I'm really proud of this...so you new readers can enjoy it like I did.**

 **This is a dark retelling of Fire Emblem 7. Keep that in mind while reading.**

 **N: Samuel is a college student whose end arrived sooner than he'd wish. His past actions in this life will lead him to a new one in a different world. Here, his spirit was brought before a higher power. He must rely on his intellect and his newfound friends to overcome some difficult trials.**

* * *

"Hello..."

Those words reach empty ears, and silence fills the air. All around, darkness surrounds a single flame tinged with a hint of purple, resembling a lone candle in a black room. The area's void-like aura sucks in any and all stimuli, robbing them of any individualistic qualities. The speaker of the greeting herself appears to be looking over the blaze like a some divine being, though her form blends in with the dark completely, eliminating any trace of her save for her comforting, feminine voice.

"You've sinned...haven't you?"

The flame burns slightly brighter, representing to the observer that it, or rather, he, has regained some of its consciousness. That's because this was not some simple flame. It's the soul of a young man from a world called Earth, who'd come here after his life came to an abrupt end. His name is Samuel.

 _Huh?_ He thought. _Where...am I?_

He instinctively opens his mouth to speak, but his new form does not have any capacity to do that. All he can do is increase or decrease his luminosity at a whim, though this can't do anything in the form of communication. Perhaps if he knew Morse Code, that'd be different, but he doesn't. Neither does the voice.

She says, "I...sense confusion in you, but oddly no fear. I feel that will change when you arrive at your new environment. You should consider yourself very fortunate. Most people aren't given this opportunity to live again."

 _Live again?_

Samuel comes to bear with some vague memories back in his old life. He remembers fire on an open plain, the choking scent of burning gasoline, and the bloodied mess of organs strewn about the green ground. It was truly a violent end, though Samuel can't recall much else about himself. The only other details he knows are of his name, and a stringent, unyielding preference for personal liberty.

The voice continues, "You don't remember much, but your memories will come back with time. Some will produce knowledge to your benefit. Some will bring you harm. Others, won't effect you at all save for the product of some sadness. Yet, you'll bear with them regardless. As is the burden of man, to deal with the consequences of our past actions, whether willing, or less so."

The voice shifts over Samuel's left side, bringing about a shift of cold air. Despite his absence of muscles, he can feel his form shiver. It reminds him of the cold nights his homeland sometimes had, as fleeting as that memory is. But...he's not in his homeland anymore. Where he's going, he'll have to rely on his abilities to survive in a world wrought with the troubles of absolute monarchy that sometimes work in tandem with the forces of evil. His purpose lies there.

The voice says, "Just as you did in your old life, you will have a purpose here. This world of Elibe. Evil lurks in the shadows, working to bring upon a Calamity that will eliminate not just the current structure of power, but the entire human race. This task will serve as an opportunity of redemption towards the actions of your past life. You...do know what I'm referring to, do you?"

Samuel's light dims slightly. Guilt in his heart surges through him, though he can't understand why. He...doesn't remember.

"Hehehe...that's right. That's an oversight by myself. You...are a murderer, Samuel. Had you survived your final act, you likely would've been tried for the man's death. I'm not familiar with the courts of your world, but, I do believe the count would have been _Involuntary Manslaughter_. It's a pity, really. You didn't exactly live your life as a shining beacon of morality, yet, you were bound for a productive, happy existence. It's all because you made one fatal decision in your young age. To partake in the sinful drink that dulls the mind. That, and choosing to travel when you should not have."

Upon finishing her sentence, suddenly, a large, cylindrical, multi-ringed pillar of light breaks through the darkness above Samuel's flame. It covers him in its light, and surprisingly, it starts to raise him higher and higher. Samuel tries to struggle against this mysterious force's will, but it's all in vain. This is out of his hands...as is the will of fate.

"I will show you mercy that you wouldn't have received in your old life had you survived. You will appear in this world as stardust falling from the night sky. There, someone will make it so that you are assigned a proper form. Your objective is to save this world from its inevitable destruction. Now, tell me my child, do you understand?"

The pillar of light glows brighter, and it engulfs the entirety of Samuel's being. Samuel can hardly hear the voice, and upon realizing this, the voice sighs.

"Ah...not like you have much of a choice. But...you did have a choice in your earlier life, didn't you? Oh well, you won't remember any of this anyway. I suppose this is our goodbye. Until next time..."

Then, without another moment of hesitation, everything goes black.

* * *

 **New Author's Patch: Working on switching everything else to 3rd Person...**


	2. A Girl from the Plains

**Chapter 1: A Girl from the Plains**

 **by SodiumChloride12 from content derived from the** _ **Fire Emblem**_ **series owned by Nintendo**

 **A/N: Just so you know, this story contains a lot of OC. The reasoning behind that is because later (Chapters 13-47) I'm going to indulge on some world building regarding places seldom talked about in the current canon. This includes adventures in Missur, a small town in Lycia, and Illia. If you're not about that, then by all means stop reading because we're going to diverge from the set path after Chapter 12. If you want, you can just go ahead and skip to Chapter 48, though I HIGHLY discourage that. My writing takes a huge leap (in a good way) in that time, and you're going to lose a lot of the context behind the story (in addition to being put off guard by my change in style).**

 **I had the choice of either putting together a time-skip or using this "intermediate period" to my advantage to tell a series of stories. I chose the latter.**

 **N: Sam finds himself in a new world, without any memory of his past. Gagged and immobile, his start isn't exactly ideal. A local comes to his aid, igniting a lifelong friendship. The first of many.**

* * *

 _A voice appears to Samuel in his dreamy haze. It seems angelic, and oddly familiar, but he can't assign a name to it._

 _"Life can seem like a blur sometimes. Sometimes, it's like we just pop into existence. It's only through the help of others do we realize our origins. Feel free to discover who you are, and who you were. There will be obstacles in your journey, sometimes there is nothing you can do but fight. Remember, everyone is the hero in their own story."_

 _It disappears as quickly as it came, and gradually, he begins to sense his surroundings..._

* * *

 **In an undisclosed location…**

Samuel wakes in a dark space, completely immobile. His gagged mouth struggles to take in air, though his nose smells the warm scent of grass. Warm wind brushes against his body, and his ears bristle with the sounds of the peaceful flow of a river nearby. A rope ties his arms and legs together, with the tension being too tight to overcome.

 _What...?_

Samuel brushes his leg against the floor, which proves to be a mistake when a splinter digs into his limb. He flinches, and by instinct, he jolts slightly, compelling the ground below him to match his movement like a suspension. He grits his teeth as a large assortment of junk lands on him, the bruises catching light of a bad day.

 _Ugh...that hurt..._

The haze over his mind begins to lift...and the trickle of discomfort preceding quickly explodes into a waterfall of pain. He instantly notices all the injuries he has over his body, with the most severe located around his head region. The accompanying sense of brain fog feels overwhelming to bear...but a voice cuts through the muck.

It says, "Money ain't easy to come by around here, that's why you gotta take it when you can."

 _Money...who...are these people?_

Another voice responds, "Yup. We're going to get a pretty penny for a guy like him. Those traders will take anybody for a premium."

 _Huh?_

Samuel's too dazed to realize that he's in the back of a slaver's cart. Nor does he realize the blood that covers his body; the wounds being of unknown origin.

 _?!_

His body flies in the air again as the cart's wheel collides with a small molehill. It forces him to ram his knee into the hardwood, the sensation fuzzy like a drunken stupor. Samuel musters a small groan. "Urmpf."

The cart stops, the inertia throwing him onto the cart's walls. His body slams into them in an awkward angle, and he feels his elbow give in. Going into shock, he loses all feeling…

 _It hurts...please just make it stop...oh my..._

The bandits look back at their motionless captive. One of them only bats an eye, carefree of the man's trial with mortality. "Did you hear that, Shiloh?"

His companion pauses for a moment. Confused, he says, "I didn't hear anything, Laals."

Laals' eyes rest on the crimson filling his cart. Turning back to Shiloh, he bites his lip, not for pity towards the man, but the new mess on his possession. "Shit...I think we've killed our merchandise."

Shiloh frowns and disembarks from his vehicle. He takes a nearby stick and pokes the body, attempting to solicit some reaction. Nothing comes of it. His stick touches nothing but an ailing, clammy body nearing death.

Laals shrugs his shoulders. "They ain't worth anything if they're dead." Motioning his hand towards his companion, he adds, "Throw his body out, we don't want to carry dead weight. Besides, I'm sure we can get someone else down the road."

Shiloh agrees, and he lifts the captive's body from the cart. Afterward, Shiloh uses his free hand to wipe blood from his shirt. He looks over at the river nearby, his blue eyes reigning motionless towards the deep waters barreling liters upon liters of clear liquid downstream.

He lifts the light body up against his shoulders, preparing to dispose of the assumed dead. Just as he is about to do so, he remembers something a friend had told him long ago...and hesitates.

 _Don't throw bodies into rivers, Shiloh. The gods work hard to make the rivers flow with clean water, and undoing that work would bring about their wrath._

Shiloh looks back at Laals, who's oblivious to the task he entrusted him with. The simple-minded thinks back on the order and wonders if there was any other way to enforce his wishes.

Shiloh says aloud, "Well, he only said to dispose of it. Didn't say how."

The captive's body falls onto the soft sand with a light thud. His blood stains the yellow mineral, but the large oaf can't care less. Better for the vultures to deal with the body than the river, he surmises.

Shiloh returns to the cart, satisfied with a job well done. Laals cracks his whip over the two horses pulling their cart, and they disappear over the horizon. They leave behind a withering, dying young man, whose black hair strewn outwards on the sand like a mop. Over time, he goes in and out of consciousness, often questioning reality…

* * *

 **Hours later...**

"Oh my...what's happened to you?"

Samuel tries to open his eyes, but at the moment he can not. The sand from the nearby beach had dried them shut, and the dry nature of that day dissipated most of the moisture in his body. Samuel tries to do something, _anything_ to respond to the serene voice that speaks over him...but he fails. His body has lost most of its strength...a consequence of his frail humanity.

A pair of cool hands rest on his forehead, then to his heart. They feel feminine, though resembling more angel than human. The hands sense the fever racking his forehead, along with his feeble, but still-beating heart.

She says, "You're still alive. If you can hear me...don't worry about a thing. I'll save you...just rest easy."

 _Rest easy? How can I rest easy when I'm about to die..._

 _Please...I don't want to die...I don't even know who I am..._

Samuel's eyes are too dry to cry. All he can do is allow the haze that had dulled his senses to return once more...and all became black.

* * *

 **…?**

 _My breathing...it's returned to normal..._

 _...The pain isn't as bad anymore, and I think I'm in bed. It's not too comfortable...but I think it's been a while since I've gotten a good night's rest._

 _My eyes are still closed...but I know they're not as dry as before. I think I can open them…_

Opening his eyes, Samuel realizes he's bedridden in what appears to be a nomadic dwelling. The dwelling is small and made of straw, and despite its light materials, it seems structurally sound. He raises his head to look around, and he notices how the building seemed to elevate the closer one was to the center. To his right, there's an open kitchen with a knife laid out on the table. To his left, he sees a big open green door that lets in warm air. In front of him lies what appears to be a pestle and mortar, undisturbed along with some medical equipment. Behind him stands a separate room with its door closed.

Samuel senses a sharp pain grapple his forehead, and he raises his hand there. He feels a cloth between his finger and skin, along with a moist, sticky substance gradually diffusing through it. He looks at the red substance that accumulated on his finger. It's his blood. He comes to terms with the woozy nature of his head...and he's realizing why.

 _A concussion...have I had an accident?_

Samuel turns his head to the entrance to see a green door revealing inviting sunlight, its warmth tempting him. He feels compelled to approach it...like he'd been inside for far too long.

 _I need some fresh air..._

Samuel heaves his body to take his first step, and a dizzy spell instantly takes hold of him. He feels his weight shift towards his left, and his left ankle fails to support his weight. He lands on the rug flooring with a thud.

 _!_

"Ouch!"

 _I probably should've stayed in bed a bit longer instead of half-consciously falling on my first step. Great!_

Instantly regretting his decision, Samuel rubs his elbow like an injured cat. Through all his half-conscious pain, a serene voice catches him off guard.

"Oh, you're awake!"

Samuel looks over his shoulder to see a green-haired girl (Green hair? Odd...) of about eighteen years of age emerge from an unseen part of the dwelling. She wears a blue dress and has her hair fashioned in a long ponytail. Her smile carries with it a sneaky sense of optimism, though he can't surmise why.

He asks, "Where...where am I?"

The girl extends her hand to help him off the ground, which he accepts. She carries a lot of strength behind her arm, and he swears she'd be able to bench press him if she so desired.

She says, "You're in Sacae, the nation of the plains. You seem to have taken quite the tumble."

Samuel dusts off some dirt from the green cloak he just realizes he has on. It's thick but oddly breathable. Thus was the marvelous properties of wool.

He says, "You know, I was so excited to start his day that his ankle couldn't handle it. Talk about some bad genetics."

The girl gives him a puzzled look. Something he'd said...just didn't click. "Genetics? What is that word? Are you some priest spouting the word of our Creator?"

 _Ok...the girl's not that smart, apparently. Probably didn't make it past high school. There are a plethora of other questions I need answered...but first thing's first..._

He says, "Erm...forget I said that. Pardon me miss...but how did I get here?"

The girl places her hand on her chin and takes a moment to think. "I saw you unconscious near the river when I was hunting a few days ago. I thought you needed some assistance."

 _Okay, explains the bandage. Who is this girl anyway?_

He asks, "Hmm…I see. You have his thanks. Judging from this wound, I was probably in some hot water. By the way, ma'am who are you?"

She gives him another confused expression. "Ma'am?"

 _Was I not clear enough? This girl's really thick-skulled. I guess every cute girl's got to be._

Samuel does his best not to make his concerns over the girl's intelligence known. "Sorry... Um, who are you?"

She replies, "Oh! My name is Lyn from the Lorca tribe, and you are?"

"My name is-"

Samuel pauses...and breaks into a cold sweat.

 _Wait...what is my name actually? Come to think of it, I don't remember much at all._

Concerned, Lyn raises her brow. She clearly holds more respect for his well being than he does for himself. "Something wrong?"

Samuel digs deep into the depths of his memories, looking for anything that could explain who he was. But he finds nothing. Nothing.

He says, "I...I can't remember anything, Lyn."

Lyn scratches the back of her head, "Nothing at all?"

Samuel shakes his head feebly, and the room fills with silence. He places his hand on the bandage Lyn expertly had on his wound. Touching it feels uncomfortable, and Lyn takes notice of this.

She asks, "Are you feeling okay? I tried his best, but...I'm no doctor. No magic flows through his veins, so I'm afraid I couldn't heal you the traditional way."

 _Magic? Magic exists here?_

 _Could I use it?_

He replies, "Er...no I'm okay. It's amazing actually, I don't think I'd be able to do a good job like this even if his life depended on it. How...bad was it?"

Lyn says, "When I found you...it was like somebody attacked you. Your head was a bloodied mess...like they hit it with a blunt object. Someone had left you for dead by the river. You lost so much blood...it worried me I wouldn't be able to save you."

 _I was targeted?!_

She adds, "Bandits are a huge problem around here. I wouldn't be surprised if one of those vile goons snuck up on you."

"Bandits?"

She nods, "Yes...they're a huge problem around here. Sacae is ruled by many tribes, some of whom will periodically war with one another for hunting lands. Since no centralized force is guarding our frontiers, bandits often raid weaker tribes and travelers for profit. They're a disgusting bunch...and I despise them."

 _So Sacae is a divided nation...I'll remember that._

He digs his hands into his pockets.

 _So, a bunch of bandits mugged me and probably took my stuff. A blow to the head is known to cause amnes- wait a minute. What is this thing in my pocket?_

Samuel feels his fingers brush up against a lone wooly object. He grabs onto it and pulls it from the darkness. His eyes bear witness to a long black fabric with a hole on top.

Lyn raises her eyebrow, "A black sock? I wonder where that came from."

"I...am so confus-"

 _?!_

Suddenly, they hear some noise outside. Perhaps they had some guests he wasn't aware of? Apparently, judging from Lyn's concerned expression across her face, this likely proves true. She walks to her storage chest nearby and takes out a long rusted sword.

She says, "I'll look outside, you stay in here."

Blade in hand, she walks out through the front door.

Samuel takes the moment to think about his situation. No memory, a green cloak, black boots, a bad forehead, and a black sock. Why the hell does he have a black sock?!

* * *

 **Somewhere in Illia...**

Canas is a simple man living his simple life, and although he is constantly learning about his favored topic, elder magic, he likes to take some time to help his mother do their laundry. Having just finished that, he notices there is one pair not yet folded. His twenty-seventh pair of black socks.

He looks over at his companion as he struggles to look for his lost possession.

He asks, "Niime, do you know what in Saint Elimine's name happened to my black sock?"

His elder mother, a hermit ready to finish with such boring labor, looks at her son with a blank expression.

"Canas, you know I have better things to do than find your footwear."

Canas sighs, "So, it is lost, then?"

Niime lazily scans the room and shrugs her shoulders, "Yeah."

"How unfortunate," says Canas.

"Indeed."

* * *

 **Back in Sacae...**

Lyn comes running back, bursting through the door with such force that the building nearly exploded from its nonexistent foundation.

She speaks with a quivering voice, "Big trouble! There are bandits! They are only two, so they must be loners. If they cross this pass, they may attack the nearby villages. I-I think I can take them on."

 _A pass...so we're near some mountains most likely. Bandits don't sound good though..._

Samuel takes a quick look outside and sees two men in their early to mid-twenties. Although they look like they can't hit the broadside of a barn, strength-wise they seem very capable of transforming him into cream cheese.

Samuel closes the door shut. Dumbfounded, he compares the relatively small frame of this wanna-be heroine to her threatening opponents. "You versus them? I may be concussed, but I think your odds of victory are slim to none."

Shaking away any initial doubt, she responds, "I must stop them…his neighbors have been kind to him, if I don't stop them now, they may bring in a larger force."

Samuel thinks about the two men that stand outside, and he considers leaving this foolish girl to her fate when suddenly, he feels a memory invade his mind. His breathing intensifies.

 _I look into a straw hut as four men surround a lone woman bleeding from the stomach. Without a care in the world, I turn away towards the flames that surrounded us as the woman_ cries _out for help..._

"I-I'll go with you."

Lyn, surprised with his change in attitude, places her hand on her hip. "Didn't you just say our odds of victory were slim to none? Why would you want to risk your life for this?"

Samuel shakes his head and thinks of the terror he had just experienced. "I just...I have a change of heart. I'm sure we can figure something out."

Lyn looks at his battered body, focusing on his legs that had failed him moments ago.

 _This man can't be serious...he just fell on his buttocks earlier._ She thought.

Sternly, she asked, "Can you fight? You barely look capable of walking".

Samuel takes off weight from his still sore ankle.

"That fall was a fluke. Totally not going to happen again. About that fighting part though, I'm not sure…you don't happen to have some sort of weapon?"

She goes over to her storage chest on the other side of the building to find a mighty weapon for his pending heroic deed. She opens it and started pulling out stuff ranging from bowstrings, cloth, and a spoon. Having emptied the contents of the chest, she turns towards him.

"There's nothing."

"What?!"

Lyn cracks an awkward smile, "It seems I've been a bit negligent in his shopping lately. Hey, actually, I've been meaning to give this back. I found this by the river."

She grabs a pocket watch with a shield and feather on it.

"Does this remind you of anything?"

Samuel looks at it and feels the same sensation that he had experienced earlier. Another memory comes to him...

 _"This pocket watch is the symbol of our top strategist, the tactician."_

 _A mysterious man places the pocket watch onto my hands as I felt its silver body._

 _"Take care of it. A tactician's watch is his most prized possession."_

"Er...I'm a tactician...I think." He says meekly.

"Oh, so you're a strategist by trade?"

Lyn's expression morphs into something more sinister, and she covers her mouth as she hid her smile. Samuel hears whispered laughter.

 _Is this girl laughing at me? Maybe I should just let her deal with those punks alone..._

Samuel's face turns red with embarrassment, teetering somewhere between anger and shock. He says with an annoyed tone, "Is there something wrong?"

Lyn musters just enough strength to hide her amusement, "It's just that...well... tacticians are the type of people...how do I say it...less sociable than average. Nerdy, awkward, and usually unfitting for a weapon. Some people go as far as to call your position redundant."

"Well, I'll let you know that I am most uncertainly not useless."

Lyn pushes the door of her abode open, the sunlight landing on his right foot. "We'll see on the battlefield. Lead my sword tactician. I'm counting on you."

An aura of confidence fills him as he looks into her green eyes. "Trust me. I only give my best. You have my word."

They run out of the house to face their foes. How heroic it must've been to see them on their way to stop the evil of this banditry. However, his knee decides to crash this gallantry back to earth.

"Ouch!"

Samuel stops for a moment, clutching his kneecap.

Somewhat annoyed, Lyn says, "Thought you said it was a fluke?"

"Should've warmed up before going off on a sprint. I've been laying down for too much. I think my caretaker forgot to stretch off my joints every so often."

Lyn rolls her eyes, "Do I look like a nurse to you?"

Samuel replies sarcastically, "No, nurses are a lot more intelligent."

Lyn scoffs, "Why I'd never...I thought you'd be a bit more grateful for my help."

He shrugs his shoulders, "No, I am. I'm just joshing with you, lass. To be honest, I'm not exactly in the best of shape."

Lyn tilts her head curiously. She says, "Joshing? What do you mean? You speak in riddles, tactician."

"Ugh...never mind!"

Samuel shakes off his leg a bit which allows a small air pocket built up in his knee to pop. Flexibility he has never experienced before in his joints.

"Okay, I'm good now, let's go!"

He scans the scene out. At first, the beauty of the plains overtakes him. Green, lush grass as far as the eye can see. A river silently flows behind them, and mountains bring in cool air that refreshes his soul. Somehow, it feels familiar. He sees the same two men, one walking around and the other guarding the entrance of a bright red hut. A plan formulates in his mind.

"Okay, Lyn, here's what we're going to do."

* * *

At first, Lyn is unsure why the tactician decides to run toward the bush, much more so without a weapon. But when she sees the bandit get his ax stuck within a nearby bush in an attempt to attack him, Lyn knows she has her chance. She grips her weapon tightly and charges forward…

* * *

The ax came within an inch of hitting him, only for the assailant to miss horribly.

 _I suppose I was right when I thought he couldn't hit the broadside of a barn._

Samuel takes his weapon, a sock filled with a couple of pointy rocks, and uses his makeshift sling to swing for his head, landing the shot as crimson flows from his wound. Disoriented, he steps back…only for Lyn to slash across his stomach with her cold blade. The bandit raises his hand as if to say something, but collapses instead. He lies there in his fresh and reddening tomb, the unmistakable scent of death tainting the area.

Together, they look over their last foe; a man who stands guard over a small grain deposit. His gamble had worked, but now his left ankle gives him problems. Samuel feels this would become a common recurrence going forward.

He says as much. "Lyn, I doubt I'll be able to do that again."

Lyn wipes her bloody sword with a cloth, "You won't need to, I can take him on myself..."

 **...**

The bandit looks at the pair, unsure of their next move.

Samuel tells Lyn, "Be prepared should he try something dangerous. He seems more competent than the last guy, so be careful."

Together, they approach the last bandit, the grass around them moving with the wind.

The bandit waves his ax threateningly, as he scrambles, "Who do you think you are? You think you can stand up to Batta the Beast?!"

Samuel replies, "If you know what's good for your health, _bandit_ , I recommend a career change. I'm sure the nearby circus is hiring for the lion act. You'll be the lion, of course. You're too painfully incompetent to be left in charge of an animal."

The bandit flexes his muscles, "Heh, what makes you think you can talk to him like that? I'll use your bones for toothpicks!"

Before they can exchange any more words, Lyn rushes forward.

Within seconds, Lyn strikes at Batta and a deep gash cuts through the center of his chest. Batta recoils but throws himself back into the fight from the non-fatal blow. He swings his ax and although Lyn escapes the brunt of the blow, Batta tears the sharp of it, deep and bloodily, into Lyn's thigh.

Lyn favors her leg as she falls back.

"Ack!"

 _Oh no. The game's over._

Samuel catches her before she hits the ground, and although she gets back up on her own power, he knows she can't take another hit like that again. Silently, he watches as she shakes to rise, swaying back and forth from blood loss. Her strength leaves her by the second, and eventually the time will come when there will be nothing left.

Samuel feels something within him awaken. Perhaps it was some long-forgotten belief in chivalry, or concern for his own allies. Whatever the case, he wants nothing more than to lift this burden from Lyn's shoulders...and volunteers to take him on in her stead.

Samuel says, "Lyn, are you all right? Get behind him, I'll deal with him."

He steps forward to face the brute, his mind ready to take on this man who had a wide advantage of weight over him. However, pauses as Lyn grabs his arm. She pushes him back, towards the open plains.

"No, if we both die no one will be able to warn the villagers. Leave me here!" She insists, "If I fall, you must run!"

Flabbergasted, Samuel fervently disagrees. "Lyn, you know I can't do that! You're being impulsive! What good does it do if you throw away your life now? Come on, let's get out of here while we still can! Batta is injured, and I doubt he'll be able to chase us."

Batta shoots a glance over at him, and quickly closes the distance between them within seconds.

"What did you say about me, pipsqueak?!"

Batta swings again, but his injury muddies his technique and they dodge without getting hit. Lyn readies her sword…and for a second, Samuel completely loses sight of her. When she reappears, five deep cuts rupture through Batta's body; fatally wounding him.

Samuel takes one good look at Lyn; he has no idea how she did that. It honestly sends a chill of fear down his spine.

Batta chokes on his own blood, "What? How…How did you—"

He falls to the grass, and is no more.

Lyn, however, is not far off. She sways on her feet, except this time, her willpower cannot keep standing.

Samuel grabs her as she falls and attempts to stop the bleeding with his cloak. Lyn is losing consciousness fast from blood loss, but before she passes out, she mutters one final sentence.

"Tactician, please...the vulnerary...in my satchel..."

* * *

 **Later...**

Before Lyn comes to, Samuel uses the vulnerary to heal her leg, and afterward, he finds some bandages she didn't use on his forehead to finish the job. His relief is palpable when he notices her awake a day later.

Samuel says, "Finally, you're awake. I was getting bored. Ironic that the roles are switched now, huh?"

Laughing as she rubs her tired eyes, she says, "Yes, very ironic. I thought you said you couldn't bandage up a wound to save your life, tactician."

"Well, you see, it wasn't _my_ life at stake. Can you tell why I'd try just a little bit harder? Just a little bit?"

They share a laugh, and she pats him on the back. A reward for a job well done. Afterward, she takes a deep breath and raises from her cot. Her frown evident as her eyes graze over his bloodstained robe.

"That fight must've taken a lot out of you, tactician."

Samuel scoffs, "I think you got the short end of the stick during that battle, Lyn. I didn't go into a day-long coma."

Another mistake on his part. Lyn gives him yet _another_ confused glance, and Samuel has to go on explaining his figurative speech to her. They come into an understanding and dwell into some small talk. Lyn questioned if the young man had any recollection of his past. _Nope_. He tries to get as much information as possible about the new world he found himself in. Eventually, they come upon the subject of his departure.

She asks, "Hey, can I ask you an important question?"

Samuel nods his head, "Yes, of course, anything."

Her next few words change his life forever.

"Would you allow me to travel with you?"

Samuel very nearly falls out of the chair he sits in. "Me? You want to travel with me? Honestly, I don't even know where I am going after this, or even who I am. Even if I did, you need to get permission from your parents."

As soon as that last word leaves his mouth, tears edge Lyn's eyes. Instant regret flows through his veins.

"My mother and my father...died six months ago. My people...the Lorca... we don't exist anymore. A man unleashed a great sickness upon our tribe, all of us were weakened. Then _they_ came... under the dark of night. That's all it took. O-One night. Few survived, and the ones that had protested following the chieftain's daughter on the basis that I was a woman. Scattered, it brought their death. The Taliver...took everything from me."

Lyn's sobs are muffled into silence as she turns away. Samuel finds himself at a loss for words.

 _She's been through so much. What can I do?_

"I'm sorry. I've been alone for so long… No, no more. I won't cry..."

"...I don't care where we go, but if I'm to idle in this ger forever," That's _what this is?_ "I'll never get strong enough. Had you not come along, I would've died today. I must get stronger. To avenge father, my people! Please, help me to do that! Let's find out who you really are!"

 _What am I supposed to say? No?_

Smiling, Samuel says, "Well, I suppose I don't have anything else to do. I appreciate your vote of confidence getting my identity back. In exchange, let me help you become the best swordswoman ever!"

"Yes!"

She extends her hand, and he shakes it.

"We'll leave first thing tomorrow! You'll be my master strategist, and I your peerless warrior!"

His hand is crushed by her grasp.

 _What a brutal handshake! How strong_ is _this woman?_

Samuel tries to wiggle out of her grasp. Although Lyn is smaller, she packs a punch.

"Hey! You're awfully physical, aren't you?" Samuel's voice takes an octive.

She releases him from her grip. "Oh? Sorry! Anyway, I'm tired of calling you tactician. Let's give you a name!"

"Like what?"

"Let's call you Mark. You were on-the-mark today."

Samuel plants his palm to his forehead. "That's really corny."

Lyn raises her brows, "Corny? However does it resemble food?"

"Never mind."

So, there it is. After managing to almost get her killed, Lyn decides it best for them to go on an adventure with no apparent destination. What prompts her to impulsively follow a stranger she just met? Is it desperation? Perhaps there is something in him she finds promising. He's not sure, but it's his mission now to prove his skills and not let her down. For the both of them.

* * *

 _ **A/N: Patch 7/7/2020.**_


	3. Footsteps of Fate

**Chapter 2: Footsteps of Fate**

 **By SodiumChloride12, made using content owned by Nintendo**

 **N: Prior to departing on their journey, nightmares too real to imagine haunt the burgeoning tactician. What can it mean?**

* * *

 **...?**

Samuel coughs as he tries to breathe. It's impossible.

 _Is...this smoke?!_

Thick, black smoke barrels its way into his throat, irritating and scraping like sandpaper. The sheer lack of oxygen makes the surrounding environment hazy, but Samuel can somehow make out silhouettes past the black fog. He squints his eyes...and sights a flame burning nearby. No...an inferno.

 _How did I get here?_

Samuel tries to step forward, but he's immediately met with a wall of green flame. The flames bring heat that's scorching and unpleasant, the sensation comparable to being microwaved inside out. Samuel's mind spins with nausea, and Samuel almost misses the tiny, nomadic huts nearby.

 _Huh? What is this?_

Samuel looks over, and for a moment they look peaceful, a defiance to the surrounding combustion. However, the defiance ceases when the huts spontaneously combust into an eerie-green hell spawn, with an explosion sending him several feet into the air.

 _!_

"Ack!"

Samuel falls onto the black, ashy grass. The tiny blades of vegetation disintegrate under his weight, sending even more soot into his lungs. By now, his coughing has become uncontrollable, the irritating smoke sealing his eyes shut. He cannot describe this pain, and screams out in agony…

"No...make it stop...make it stop!"

Samuel extends his arm forward in a vain plea for help, but no assistance comes. Instead, someone rewards him with a sharp pain to his arm...as if something had just cut it open with an axe.

 **?:** "Die you damn abomination!"

The voice was rough and masculine, with its writhing anger shaking him to the core. However, despite its clear hostility towards him...Samuel understood that this person was not evil. In fact, it acted like it was defending something...or someone. Kind of like a father defending his child...or his family.

"Get the hell out of our village...you monster..."

Samuel opens his eyes just in time to see a green-haired man raise his axe above his head...

* * *

 **Midnight…**

"Mark!"

Startled, Samuel jolts awake and sees a familiar, concerned girl grabbing onto him. Her green irises vaguely resemble themselves under the cover of darkness, and they solely focus on him. Her face drips with anxious beads of sweat...

She speaks with a dash of uncertainty, "Mark...you were screaming and holding your arm. You had me worried there was someone in here! Are...you all right?"

Breathing heavily and covered in his perspiration, Samuel thinks of the terror that he just experienced. He shivers and does his best to calm his trembling hands.

 _It felt so real...what was that...?_

 _It's just a nightmare, Mark, nothing more, nothing less. Your dreams can't hurt you… Just calm down. You shouldn't be worrying Lyn._

He gives her the best smile he can muster. It wasn't a beauty by any means...but it would do.

He says, "It's...just a bad dream. I'll be fine...really. Y-You can go back to bed."

Lyn's grasp of him lessens as she pulls away, but there's a hint of hesitation in her step. She had detected the anxiety in his voice...

She asks, "Mark, I know we've just met, but...if something troubles you, then tell me. We will be living with each other for a while, and...I think it's important we establish some trust. I want you to understand you can tell me anything, and your livelihood is meaningful to me..."

She turns away and sighs.

"We're going out onto a big world tomorrow, tactician. We'll be meeting a lot of new people, many of whom won't have our best interests at heart. Eventually, we may find ourselves in some rough spots, and I want to know you'll have my back through it all. So please... if anything troubles your mind... don't wear this burden alone. We can walk through it together, as the tribesmen of the plains would."

He's speechless. Lyn put her full trust in him by offering her own shoulder for him to lean on. However, even with that in mind, he couldn't take her up on her offer. As was the fate of many dreams, he had forgotten the contents of his nightmare only mere moments after having awakened.

He says, "Lyn...I appreciate it, but I can't. I've honestly already forgotten the nightmare I just had...I'm sorry."

Lyn frowns and walks away, toward a small kitchen. To his astonishment, she returns with a hot cup of prepared green tea…

She says, "Here, take this. It should help you sleep."

He asks, "Green tea? How did you have this ready so soon?"

Lyn replies, "Well, to be honest, I've been awake for some time. You weren't the only one dealing with nightmares tonight."

"Lyn..."

She shakes her head and lies down on a cot near his bed. The cot had no blankets, which were redundant because of the warm spring heat. Still, she turns over to where her ponytail faces him and relaxes.

She says, "It's no problem at all. I just had a cup earlier. Don't make too much noise...and try to get some rest. I'll see you first thing in the morning."

The ger goes silent once more, eventually returning to the comforting embrace of night. He finishes his cup of tea and digs himself into his sheets…

…

After some time, he enters into a blissful sleep...

* * *

 **A few days later…**

Samuel grunts as his boot indents the dark soil, flexing as his body lurches forward onto the lush green grass. He falls with a thud as his legs aches with a day's worth of walking. His chapped lips seek water, and as the early spring winds blow nearby pollen into his nose. A discomforting sensation irritates his sinuses.

"Achoo!"

He wipes his nose with his kerchief and sits down. Beyond exhausted, he takes in the brief relaxation of the soft grass. The hills in Sacae are few and far between, but that doesn't mean they were any less exhausting to climb.

 _Spent all this time climbing...it won't hurt us to rest a bit._

After a moment of repose, his attention shifts to the magnificent city visible over the horizon. He could see its thick cobblestone walls even from this distance, its wide assortment of dwellings and shops, a caravan of merchants making their way to the city, and to top it all off, a grand church with its spires pointed towards the heavens. He can't help his sense of amazement; this is the first he'd ever seen structures of this magnitude or complexity.

 _So this is the free city of Bulgar..._

Almost effortlessly, Lyn trots behind him like an eager child. She smoothly drinks from her canteen, allowing the refreshing river water to intake. He watches with want as excess splatters to the grass.

She says, "I'm glad we made such good time! No bandits and prime weather! How well Father Sky smiles upon us!"

He looks at her with pleading eyes. his mouth too dry to speak. Lyn takes her canteen and offers it to him, green eyes resting on his face.

"Oh? Mark, would you like some water?"

He snatches it about as fast as his hand can come within reach. Mid-slurp, he squeaks out a weak, "Thank you."

He hands her the canteen, and she smiles. Through their days traveling together, he's grown to appreciate this gesture, and they treat each other with nothing but respect and kindness. He senses that their relationship is improving.

Lyn says, "By the way, Mark, I find something intriguing about you. It's your accent..."

He asks, "What of it?"

She replies, "I've heard nothing like it. To be honest, it's hilarious to listen to."

 _Huh...here I was thinking she had a weird way of speaking..._

He responds sarcastically, "My accent? Funny? I have a very proper way of speaking."

Lyn scoffs, "Proper? I feel like I learn a new word from you every day! I swear...what was that word you used yesterday?"

Lyn clears her throat and channels her inner rancher.

"Y'all."

Never one to be outdone, Mark follows suit, mocking Lyn's accent. " Art thou mocking me? Surely, a woman of the plains should know not to jest on such trivialities."

Lyn slaps his shoulder, and her face turns a light shade of pink.

"I do not speak like that!"

They laugh at that for a bit, but this conversation brings forth a clue to the mystery of his identity. Mark understands now that he does not hail from Sacae, but from a land far away. He has thick, black and curly hair, somewhat tan skin, and no conditioning for the local weather. This contrasts Lyn's straight, green hair and exotic dress, along with her unfamiliar accent. He must have been travelling through the area when he eventually got ambushed… Perhaps he comes from a nation further out west...or to the south.

However, that can wait. After some time, they pass through the city gates, and the sights overtake them. The perfectly paved road is lined with clay bricks and comfortably maintains the flow of traffic. Its sidewalk bustles with frolicking locals. A cart, filled to the brim with fresh fruits and vegetables, lumbers along at a low velocity, with its cranky owner oblivious to the young juveniles stealing his wares under his nose. Construction workers labor with some repair work on a nearby aqueduct, and their joyful sounds radiate across the air like the sun. Meanwhile, a man covered in plainclothes proselytizes from atop a nearby tree stump.

He exclaims, "Turn back from your pagan ways, Sacaens! Only then will you see the true ways of Saint Elimine!"

He pauses to point his finger at Mark and calls out, "You! Stranger! Will you confess your sins?"

Startled, Mark replies, "My what?"

He continues, "Surely you have some questionable past deed? Come, join my church! We are the separate and only true church of Elimine!"

Lyn takes Mark's arm and pulls him away. She has a sense of haste to her step, along with a protective aura in her voice.

"He is no holy man, Mark. Pay him no mind."

"Okay..."

 _Weirdo._

As they continue their way through Bulgar, the buzz of civilization grows louder and louder. He hears the chatter of endless populace, presumably going about their day.

A merchant carries on, "Prince Zephiel is to be of age in an about a year's time. Pray he's not as cruel as his father."

His colleague, a traveling violinist responds, "Ah yes, they say that the incoming prince has potential much above his father, I wouldn't be surprised if that jealous King Desmond tried to instill his illegitimate daughter, Guinevere, to become next in line instead."

A soldier confidently slams the blunt end of his spear towards the dirt.

"An interesting development, yes, but we will be here to defend our fair city despite the outcome..."

They eventually make their way to the main plaza. A grand fountain caters to its public in the center, a variety of benches, small stands, and small park occupying the rest of it. A small brown dog and his toddler of an owner run past, causing Mark to lose his balance.

"Oh no!"

Just when he expects to hit the ground, Lyn extends her arm and breaks his fall. Rolling her eyes, she admonishes, "You, my friend, are very clumsy."

Regaining his balance, Mark replies with sarcasm, "Nothing but compliments from you, right?"

Lyn sighs, "How can I when there are none to give? To think I considered spending some time admiring this part of town with my tactician..."

She turns her back towards Mark as she walks away. He rushes to follow, fearful about losing his only ally in this mysterious world. "Wait, no! I take it back! Please..."

They continue their journey, and Lyn, having been a frequent visitor of this city in her younger years, knows the perfect place to supply their munitions. She takes Mark to a part of the town specializing in mines, potions, swords, and other things that go boom.

Leading the way, she trots around the square, carefree and spirited. "Over here, Mark! Oh, wait! Let me speak with an old friend. I'll introduce you. She's where I've always gotten my swords."

She takes Mark to a bright, colorful stand, flanked by some rather impressive trees. It houses a wild assortment of items; a sword that looks to be twice his size, an advanced set of armor, and a odd vase with a definite aura. A red-haired woman promptly drops everything on her pine counter after noticing them, and greets Lyn.

Her face lights up as though she were a close friend. "Lyn! It's so good to see you!"

Returning the favor, Lyn responds, "Yes, it's been a while… Oh, this is my friend, Mark! He's a tactician by trade, and we need some gear to take us along on our journey, if you would be so kind, Anna."

Releasing Lyn, Anna stretches out her hand, "Well, it's nice to meet you, Mark. Let's get down to business."

* * *

 **Later, in the city plaza…**

"I can't believe Anna convinced us to buy all of that!"

Mark clutches his heart. Although what they'd were "necessary" wares, on credit, they accumulated 1500 gold in debt. Anna's stand may as well have been a one-stop-shop. Now they acquired an extra sword for Lyn, a dagger for Mark, and enough food to last three weeks. She'd even gone as far as to pitch in a strange red book, on the house.

 _Not sure what we would do with the last item, but it looks like an interesting read._

"I'm sure we can pay her back someday," Lyn replies, holding her head. "I'd heard one can earn good money as a mercenary. Most make upwards of 2000 gold per year!"

 _Not bad considering your average man makes 500 gold annually. Even more is necessary to get into this business, though..._

"'Might be our only option."

Starting off one's journey with debt is never a good idea, although at this point, it may as well have been forced upon them to survive out there. _Brings to mind a raccoon selling you an overpriced house you never ask for._ Speaking of raccoons…

"Oh, my heart! What a dazzling vision of loveliness!"

Surprised, Lyn turns around. "Hm?"

A cocky green knight approaches. He wears hard leather boots, roughened with age, his unkempt brown hair lacks any structural integrity, and green armor covers half his body. A long shin guard that protects his legs and an iron lance is perched lazily against his back. His steed, despondent, stares at a nearby patch of grass.

The man opens slightly chapped lips, his voice ringing oddly of distant memories, a high school jock. He says, "Wait, have I come across an angel? ...Nay...a goddess? Would you afford me a moment of your time? Or better yet—your company?"

Hearing this riles Mark. This man truly thinks he can just come up to his friend and disrespect her like this? He wishes to roll up his sleeves and give him a piece of his mind, but Lyn beats him to it.

Insulted, she responds, "Where are you from, Sir Knight, that you speak so freely to a stranger?"

 _How had this horse not collapsed from the sheer weight of this man's ego? He has to put up with the force of its own mass and the mass of the man under the influence of gravity. Is this man is so dense? He must be at lea—_

The man acts like he's been waiting for this question his whole life. Proudly, he answers, "Ha! I thought you'd never ask! I hail of Lycia, Caelin's canton, home to men of passion and fire!"

Hardly concealing her displeasure, she rolls her eyes, "Shouldn't that be home to callow oafs with loose tongues?"

He realizes his need to defend Lyn as a friend is unnecessary, as it is no secret her lineage by looks alone. However, he still feels he should show the man a united front for solidarity, and put his hat in the ring.

Raising his brows, he replies, "We're not in the business to be dealing with voyaging rogues on the street. We'll take our leave."

Mark turns away from the knight to subtly indicate to Lyn that now is the time to make their escape. She recognizes this, but the stubborn knight presses on.

He asks, "Is this your admirer, miss? I can reassure you, we Lycian knights best any robed underling."

 _Admirer?!_

Blood builds up in his face, a sting of embarrassment filling his body. Lyn senses this and hesitates, slighted by the knight's comment. They stare at one another in bewilderment, though neither can make sense of the other's motive.

The knight smirks, "Did I strike a nerve?"

Of course he struck a nerve! Mark rolls up his sleeves and balls his fists, ready to make this man eat his words. However, such a blatant act of violence would only serve them a free night in jail, and Lyn knows this. She reluctantly wraps her arm around Mark's, replacing all the aggression in the tactician's blood with pure fluster.

 _What? What is she doing?_

She says plainly, "Let's go, Mark. I've nothing more to say."

He silently gasps, realizing the purpose behind Lyn's message. By wrapping her arm around his, she displays to the knight her status of relationship, as fictitious as it is. This ruse is to dampen any interest this flirt had for her, hoping he'd play along.

Mark takes a deep breath and obliges his friend's wish. They make themselves scarce, and in the distance, hear the man yelling for them to return…

"Wait! Plea—"

They walk away and take their leave of this unusual town. They travel some distance, past the city gates, and eventually come to rest in a nearby field. After ensuring the green knight hadn't followed them, she finally lets go of his arm.

She says, "The nerve of them. I'm sorry, Mark. That was the only thing I could think of to get him to stop pestering us. I'm glad it —oh? Why is your face so red?"

He replies, "What? No! My face isn't— okay it is. Uhhhh…pollen! I'm allergic to pollen, and it makes my face redden!"

That…is an obvious lie. In reality, it's the first a girl had touched him in such a way in just as long a time. He doesn't know how to react…

Confused, Lyn comes to his side and rests her hand over his forehead. It's hot, though not from illness.

She says, "Huh? Mark, what are you going on about? You look fine, and your face wasn't red earlier. Are you hiding something from me?"

"Ahhhh—look at the time! We should be going now! Lemme just take out my watch and…"

He digs into his pockets in search of the silver pocket watch…

"You've got to be kidding…"

Lyn asks, "What?"

 _!_

"Don't tell me I dropped it over there with that knight!"

Gritting her teeth, Lyn and Mark retrace their steps. Mark apologizes for his carelessness, but she reassures him.

"It's all right, if he does anything, I'll make him regret it."

"How?"

Lyn chuckles, "I could use some sword practice right now. I've yet to fight a knight. It could be a good experience."

 _This town's craziness rubbed off her...we've got to get out of here!_

Luckily, the knight appears to have left, and Mark finds his watch on a nearby bench. Content with the return of his prized possession, they return through the path they'd come. However, they notice the the same knight has returned with a companion… and blocks the road with their combined steeds.

Mark grips the handle of his dagger as Lyn approaches the pair.

"Excuse me! You block the road. If you would be so kind as to move your horses…"

Green knight's companion is red-haired, and wears a similar armor configuration, the main difference being its fiery color. An iron lance and two swords securely hang from his side. In addition, his demeanor differs from the green knight, reflecting a no-nonsense attitude.

Red knight responds amicably, "Of course. My apologies…"

He moves his white horse out of the way. Lyn and Mark share a feeling that this is a man of great resolve and discipline.

Lyn says, "Thank you. You, at least, seem honorable enough."

The red knight, with a puzzled expression, strains a look at his companion closely, "Hm? Pardon me, but…I feel we've met before."

Suspicious, Lyn glares at the red knight, "I beg your pardon?"

The green knight butts in, "Hey! No fair, Kent! I saw her first!"

Lyn grabs Mark's hand and pulls him to start marching away, "Tsk! It seems there are no decent men among Lycia's knights! Let's go! I've run out of patience!"

They leave as quickly as they can without gathering the suspicion of the locals, and the last Mark hears is the disappointed sigh of the green knight, and the icy scolding of his companion.

* * *

 **Later, in a field overlooking Bulgar…**

Annoyed, they left the exterior walls of the city and had stopped in the same field they'd entered earlier. Lyn looks solemn.

"I never thought someone so— so revolting could be allowed to become a knight. I thought knights were supposed to follow a code of honor!"

He wipes off some stray dirt from his cloak, agreeing with his friend's statement, "Fact can often be stranger than fiction."

"Ugh."

They look over the endless sea of grass surrounding them. Through the silence, they could hear spring birds peacefully travel through the sky. It's much more preferable over the chaos of the city.

"Mark, can I ask you something?"

His gaze shifts to her, content to indulge her, "Sure."

She asks, "Your eyes. They're unique, aren't they? I saw them when we first met in my ger."

"Whatever do you mean?" he asks.

"Your right eye is brown, but the left is amber… almost like a burning flame. I've yet to see anyone with eyes like yours, much fewer ones of heterochromia."

"Wait, really?"

Puzzled, she says, "You didn't know?"

"Honestly, I haven't taken much of a good look at myself," he replied, "Though I've a feeling that if I did, I wouldn't like it."

Lyn rolls her eyes, "Well, you're right about that one."

His self-esteem tanks.

"You could at least pretend to say something nice."

She smiles and turns her vision behind Mark, squinting, her peaceful demeanor quickly shifts into one less so. Mark nearly falls when she pushes him behind her.

"Run! We're being pursued! Is it those knights from earlier? No, these men are on foot. They're out for blood!"

They try to run as quick as they can back to town, but an ax-man blocks their path back to safety. Two others gather around their flank. All possible escape routes disappear, and they come to terms with the new reality: trapped.

One man, the bandit with one of those scars-over-the-eye but not in the eye, reveals himself as the apparent leader. He smells like he hasn't bathed in weeks.

"Heh heh heh… Aren't you the pretty one? Your name is Lyndis, is it not?"

 _No one will give this girl a break, will they? His voice sounds like a dying whale, and judging from that, he probably spends too much time with his smoking pipe_.

They draw their weapons, with Lyn keeping Mark at a distance. She says, "What did you call me? Who are you?"

No-name raises his ax intimidatingly, "Such a waste. An absolute waste. The things I'll do for gold… Ah, well. Time to die, darling!" He heaves it over his shoulder…

"Watch out, Lyn!" Mark exclaims. In an instant, Lyn parries the blow, but the sheer force of his weapon knocks her to the ground.

No-name, sensing the favorable momentum, sneers at his cronies. "Get them!"

He helps Lyn up and reads the situation quickly. Three versus two is not ideal… Well, it may as well be three versus one-and-a-half… He's not exactly skilled with the knife. Chance of survival? …15%.

Lyn exclaims, "There are more than I can handle…But I won't give up!"

 _Bullocks!_

All looks hopeless. Or so he thinks.

"BOOM!"

The red knight charges his horse into a bandit, breaking his leg and launching him into a nearby bush. He exclaims, "Hold! You there! What is your business? Such numbers against a single pair? Cowards, every one of you!"

The knight creates a hole in the perimeter. They retreat into the gap and unite with their newfound allies. Exhausted, Lyn says, "You! You're from—"

The red knight responds, "We can discuss that later. My name is Kent, and this is my companion, Sain. It appears these ruffians mean to do you harm. If it's a fight they want, bring them to me!"

 _Right to the point… I think I'll like this guy._

"Fall back! To the river! We'll block them off!" says the no-name.

He looks over the wounded bandit near the bush. "Sain! Cut off that bandit over there!"

Sain lights up like the morning sun, "Yes! An opportunity to impress my beautiful one! I shall attack first!" Mark observes as Sain tries to attack the bandit with a lance who, despite having a broken leg, manages to not only parry the attack but graze Sain's shoulder.

Kent draws his sword, "You fool! Why did you try attacking an ax-man with a lance?!"

Sain, grasping his shoulder, gives a sheepish smile, "Well the lance is more heroic, isn't it? Shouldn't all knights look heroic?"

Rolling his eyes, Kent directs his sword towards the bandit, "Mark, allow me to make up for Sain's blunder. I shall engage this brute!"

Kent rides over to the bandit and slices the head clean off. How the tides have turned in this battle…

* * *

 **Later…**

Zugu looks at the four brats that had given him so much trouble. One by one, the other bandits, Jedidiah and Felix, fall to their force. It probably doesn't help that he left Felix to die in the brush on his own, or that in his sheer terror, he refused to help Jedidiah guard the south bridge over the river. It's never his own fault though, right? His strategy is flawless. Yet those blasted knights ruin his plans. He wants to do this very last job to live his last few weeks in comfort, as the sickness that has been spreading in his body has been troubling him more and more.

Yet here he stands now, his body run through twice. A pair of knight's lances protrudes from his chest, though he cannot see the perpetrators. He looks up to the one who will deliver the final blow. A flash of green erupts through the air, and he coughs blood.

His last sight that of the girl he was supposed to kill, and with the last of his strength, he curses them.

"Blast… There was only…supposed to be a lone…girl…."

* * *

"We did it, Mark!" Lyn cries, raising her sword up into the air triumphantly.

"What do you mean? You all are responsible for this victory! I just stood around and watched," he says, shrugging his shoulders.

Kent disembarks his horse, "You know, you should give yourself some more credit. We only escaped that battle with minor injuries."

 _Perhaps, but that still doesn't discount the fact we were saved by public programming's resident chimpanzee and his retainer._

Lyn sheathes her sword and walks towards the pair of knights. The confidence in her step enlightens, as does her motivation for more information.

She asks, "Now, what is your story?"

Kent clears his throat, "We have ventured from Caelin, in Lycia, in search of someone."

 _Ah yes, Lycia, that country beyond the mountains in the southwest._

"We've come as messengers to the lady Madelyn, who eloped with a nomad some nineteen years ago."

Shocked, Lyn takes a step back, "Madelyn?"

Kent rests his hand on his chin, "Our lord, the Marquess of Caelin's only daughter. He was angry that she would leave him, so he disowned her."

Sain, with the first serious face he's seen today, says, "This year, we received a letter from Lady Madelyn. It said she, her husband, and her daughter, who was turning seventeen, were living happily in the Sacean plains. He remembers the smile he had when he discovered he was suddenly a grandfather. The granddaughter's name was Lyndis, a name she shares with the marquess' late wife."

Lyn asks, "Lyndis?"

Sain nods, "Yes, Lyndis, that she was to bear this name thawed his heart. Now his only wish is to meet his daughter's family at least once. We hadn't known Lady Madelyn died a few days after sending her letter. We only learned shortly after arriving in Bulgar."

Kent says, "But we learned all was not lost. Her daughter yet lives. We heard she was living alone in the plains for about a year. I-I knew it immediately. You are the Lady Lyndis."

Lyn responds, "Why… Why would you think that?"

"I saw portraits of her around the castle, but I never met her directly."

"To the rest of my tribe, I was Lyn, but with my parents…I was Lyndis. It's so strange. For a year I was living all alone. Now, I have a grandfather. _Lyndis_ … I never thought I'd hear that name again."

Lyn turns, still silent in contemplation. She recalls the conversation she had with the bandit earlier and remembers a vital detail.

"Wait! That bandit called me Lyndis as well!"

Kent grows concerned, "How is that possible?"

Snapping his fingers, Sain comes to a revelation, "He was a henchman of Lundgren."

"Who's that?" asked Lyn.

"He's the marquess' younger brother, your granduncle, it's no secret that he has ambitions to become marquess himself."

Crossing her arms, Lyn exclaims, "But I have no interest in inheriting a title!"

He chimes in, "Well, if those goons are any sign, I have a feeling he won't believe that."

Everyone nods in agreement.

"Then what should I do?" asks Lyn.

After a moment of deliberation, Kent proposes an idea.

"Come with us to Caelin. Continuing on your current way is dangerous."

 _Well, our current way was remaining unemployed until we found a decent mercenary job. At this rate, any other plan would've been better._

Putting her head down, Lyn responds, "I feel I have little choice. I will go with you."

* * *

 **Later that night, after a day's ride from Bulgar**

The warm, orange glow of the fire radiates through the dark night. Nearby, he spots the snoozing body of Sain, and the overlooking gaze of Kent taking watch. He sits there silently, thinking about the events that happened earlier that day…though he wasn't the only one engaging in that endeavor.

Lyn says, "Mark…thank you."

He looks up at Lyn's diminishing silhouette, her form resembling a black image in a scene of ever-increasing darkness. Her green eyes fixate on his, though he is unsure why she would express gratitude.

"For what, Lyn?"

She replies, "For agreeing to stay for this journey, you know very well that we may not get out of this alive, but regardless you stayed."

He pokes the fire with a stick as embers dance around it, reminding him of a ballerina. He's not sure where this came from, as he doesn't recall ever observing a theater act. Regardless, it allows him to rest his mind on his friend's words, and apply greater meaning to the response.

He says, "Lyn, I owe you my life, had you never nursed me when we first met, I probably wouldn't be here right now. It's the least I can do."

"Oh? So, like a life-debt?"

"Something like that, I'm thankful."

There is a brief silence. The sky above them shines brightly with the countless constellations.

Lyn says, "You really like fire, don't you Mark?"

He feels the heat of it brush up against his skin, wrapping around like a comforting blanket. He does indeed enjoy fire, though is by no means a pyromaniac. "Well, I enjoy being warm."

Lyn agrees, "Don't we all?"

They spend a moment enjoying the quiet of the surrounding wilderness. The insects fill the air with their harmony of chirps, and firefly light the sky with a show of natural brilliance. He smiles as one of them roosts on the top of Lyn's cowlick, and Lyn returns the gesture as one does the same to his hood. After the trouble from the battle and city, this feels like a much-needed break.

A mischievous thought flashes through Lyn's mind. Taking advantage of his prone state, she gets up and punches his arm.

Speaking pompously, she says, "Well, I'm going to sleep now, and since you owe me a life debt, I don't think you'd mind me using your cloak as a blanket tonight do you?"

His mouth falls open, and Mark rejects her proposition. "What?! No way! It can get chilly at night!"

Laughing, Lyn pulls out a blanket she had hidden in her bag. She takes great pleasure in toying with him, though Mark only just realizes that now.

She says, "I'm kidding! You can sleep warm tonight…"

The night gets darker with each passing second, eventually reaching the point where he couldn't see anything but the waning moon. This signifies to them both that all fun comes to an end, and Lyn excuses herself to her tent.

With Kent, the moon, and Sain's snoring as his witness, Mark makes his bed near the fire. Gazing into the stars, slumber's embrace comforts him to its rhythmic and intoxicating trance…

* * *

 **A/N: (4/27/2020) Changed prose and rewrote several portions of chapter.**


	4. Sword of Spirits

**Chapter 3: Sword of Spirits**

 **By SodiumChloride12, derived from content from Fire Emblem, owned by Nintendo.**

 **N: Our heroes continue on their journey, as do Samuel's weird dreams. Could they be the key to his past?**

* * *

 **?…**

Samuel yawned as he sat on a desk, his lungs taking in the air of a small library. Underlying carpet pressed against his bare feet, and cobwebs covered the corners of the room. His pocket watch lied nearby, giving the young man constant updates of time from its silver coated hand. The dryness of the old book in his hands blessed his nose with its homely aroma. Elated with himself, he scanned over the book he partook in, a book titled: A study of unmagical phenomenon in Elibe, an observation of a natural principle.

"It should be noted that magic is not the only force acting in our world. We can observe this in the phenomenon of what some researchers call gravity, the sensation that pushes us towards the ground. But if relating to a situation where you are not moving, like standing still, then what is the force pushing us up; the opposing force? Surely, if we were speaking in terms of pure force, a force cannot solely go down, otherwise, how would we maintain our position with respect to the ground? We can explain this through the known concept of weight, i.e. the force that you feel that is influenced by your size. I believe that this sensation depends on your size (mass) and some gravitational constant. I propose this new concept as the normal force, a force that counters an opposing force (in this case gravitational force) if an obstacle prevents from moving through it. If we take the standing scenario into account, since we are not moving, the net force should equal to zero. Then your normal force should equal the opposing ratio of gravity and mass..."

Samuel took a sip from his tea and admired its warm texture. Tiny dashes of cinnamon and bergamot dashed through his taste buds, soliciting him to release a faint smile. A lone candle lit the room with its small yellow flame, and to the corner of his eye, he spied a flash of red. He turned his head to meet the familiar face of a bald man he could only assume to be his brother.

He said, "Ah...brother, a pleasure to see you."

The man had a pale face packing many more years and experience than him. By impression alone, Samuel could imply he was his senior. He showed him his hands and did some odd signals with them. He didn't understand why or how, but he understood what they meant.

He inquired, "Doing some reading?"

Samuel nodded his head and showed him the title of the book, his expression similar to a younger brother trying to impress his idol. He could not suppress this sense of admiration towards this odd red figure, and he wanted to tell him everything he knew.

He said, "Yes! It's quite an interesting read! Can you believe that there's a burgeoning field independent of magic?"

The man laughed, his inaudible breaths resembling shifts in the stale air. His glee felt robotic…but genuine.

He signaled, "Sounds like bologna. Magic is the one and only thing that governs this world."

Samuel scoffed at his brother's short-sightedness. "Nonsense! There's a lot of things that have nothing to do with magic. Let us go outside so I can show you…"

"Outside to the Forest of Valor…"

* * *

Someway, somehow, Samuel eventually woke from that odd dream. Although he remembered little of it, the joyful sense of bewilderment stuck with him for several days…

* * *

 **In the plains of Sacae...**

Samuel sighs as yet another grass burr embeds itself on his cloak. They stay there unhindered since he had given up removing them a long time ago. Wincing as one pokes into his flesh, Samuel gazes over at the knights riding effortlessly through the plain, and thinks how preferable it must be for the rider to be high above the underlying grass. Upset with the current state of things, he shifts his attention over to Lyn, and wonders aloud why these little shits hadn't attached onto her.

"These burrs are getting all over me. They're annoying as hell. How come none of these things are on you?"

Lyn chuckles at his resting, angry face. She points towards her long boots. "Specialty boots made for walking through these tall grasses. Also, I don't wear long cloaks that cover my entire body. These things will latch onto you like a moth to a flame."

 _The consequences I pay for fashion. He thought._

Samuel closes his eyes and smiles in self-pity. Some time ago, someone told him one of the best ways to be content with oneself was to smile through the pain. He thinks about the dream he'd had several days ago, and shares this experience with the man he'd only recently formed an acquaintanceship with, Kent.

"You know Kent, I had the most wonderful dream last night."

Not losing a step in his rhythm, Kent smiles back. Samuel swears this is the first time he'd seen him do that in days. He replies, "For a matter of fact I did as well, it was a flashback to my knighting ceremony."

Sain rides ahead of the pack with his thumb pointing at the ground, his head jealous for attention. He chides, "Must everything be about duty to you Kent?" He lets his head droop. "I dreamt about running into a beautiful traveling merchant and then getting cast away."

Lyn rolls her eyes, and remembers a similar thing happening to them a recently. "That wasn't a dream, Sain, that happened yesterday."

Sain, a little teary-eyed, frowns. "But, I wish it was."

Dry humor like this makes the endless, boring grass a bit more bearable. Silently, Samuels feels like his very soul was being taken from him by the forces of the plains. He doesn't know how much more he could take of this, though, thankfully, fate takes pity on him. After a few minutes of walking, he spots something faint far away.

 _A house. No...three! They're flanked by a duo of forts._

Flailing his hands like he'd just survived several days at sea with nothing but a volleyball but for companionship, Samuel alerts the others of his discovery. "Lyn! Do you see this?"

Squinting her eyes, Lyn looks over the horizon. Her green orbs dilate as she spots the red roof of a house. "Oh! Those are forts Marne and Grace! I think we've arrived!"

Samuel takes in a mental sigh of relief. By now, he feels so ready to have an easy adventure. All they have to do is go to this shrine, get some blessings, maybe observe some cool architecture, and then leave. No fighting any stupid mercenaries or bandits…

 _I hope they have chairs. My legs are killing me! I'm tired of assassins or bandits whatever always trying to kill us. What bandit in their right mind would try to attack a holy site, anyway?_

Rather than letting that thought simmer, his attention immediately transfers over to a woman running towards their direction. She trips on what seems to be nothing (a rock?), and Lyn helps her up. Her face is as red as a cherry, likely from the labor of her quick sprint.

Not even taking a second to compose herself, the woman says, "Milady! Are you headed east? To the altar?"

Lyn replies, "Yes, we are."

The woman talks so fast she nearly stumbles on her words. "Then you must hurry and help the priest there! I saw a local band of ruffians head in there recently. They want to steal the Mani Katti!"

Lyn takes a step back, and her heart sinks to the center. This is unwelcome news, and everyone begins to mentally prepare themselves for battle. She says, "The Mani Katti, they're going to steal it? This won't stand!"

Samuel groans and looks up towards the clear sky.

 _Oh boy, I can already see my happiness flying away...oh? It's just crows._

* * *

Priest Joseph holds his knife firmly as he dumps it into a pail of warm water. He's happy to be living in his humble abode, lightly furnished with a rustic desk, small straw bed, and a window that let in warm air. A spider calls the corner of his room home, Joseph's lone companion in his sole guardianship of the relic. Wary of the untidy nature of his facial hair, Joseph trims the ends of his long beard, a reminder of his lengthy tenure here at the temple. However, something grabs his attention. He hears a loud noise from the south end of the temple.

 _Oh? Has that old wall finally collapsed?_

He puts down his knife and walks out of his old granite door. He places his hand on its handle, and silently laments as it falls out.

 _In my younger years, I could fix this myself. Oh, how old age has hampered me._

He pries the door open and makes his way through a long series of halls. Colored glass lines the hallways, depicting a nomad hero through her adventures. Joseph's particular favorite was of her dealing the final blow to a great dragon during the waning days of the Scouring. Besides the Mani Katti, these colored halls are the pride of the temple. He makes his way to the end of the hall and opens the door towards the main worshiping area.

The door opens with a loud creak, and Joseph flinches. He realizes that the loud noise wasn't of the wall collapsing, but a break in. He looks onto the shattered door that litters the frontal entrance. His eyes meet with five men he'd never seen before. One of them says, "Old man! Stay where you are! Don't say a thing!"

Standing his ground, Joseph doesn't let himself get intimidated by these men. He used to be a warrior monk back in his prime, and he knows how to put up a good fight. He says, "What brings you ruffians to a holy site?"

The man points towards the Mani Katti that rests on the altar. His demand is as plain as it is impossible to fulfill. He says, "That sword. I want it."

"I will not allow a sinful soul like you to wield the Mani Katti! It's sacrilege!"

The man approaches Joseph and pushes him onto the ground. Pain strikes his fragile hip, and he senses a part of it fracture. He can't move…

The man walks over to the altar and throws off some candles that surround the piece. He rests his hands at its scabbard and attempts to draw the sword. To his shock, the sword stays fixed inside the scabbard.

"Why can't I draw it?"

Joseph lifts himself from the crackling floor. His joints ache as he regains his posture. "The spirits of the Mani Katti have judged you! Your heart is vile and wicked! The sword wants nothing with you!"

 _Hah! The sword is sealed up with my magic!_

The man, who identifies himself as Glass, fumes with rage. He kicks Joseph onto the floor once again, this time drawing a bit of blood. He writhes there in pain, and Glass shifts his attention back towards the sword he desires. Glass observes it and strains his muscles as he tries to draw the sword repeatedly.

 _I can't...draw this damn sword! I'll get that old man to show me how to use this even if I have to...where did he go?_

Glass frantically searches the area for the old man, but his efforts are in vain. Joseph had escaped while they focused on the sword, and he lets a light smile cross his face as he disappears behind a pillar…

He melts into the wide and confusing corridors that fill the interior of the temple. He makes his way to a secluded storage closet and opens a hidden tornado shelter that he had installed in his younger years.

 _I haven't ever had to use this, bless the spirits. Today, this will serve as my shelter._

He disappears into the darkness of his shelter. Alone, with nothing but the coming sounds of battle above.

* * *

Kent says, "...We have intelligence from homes nearby..."

Samuel peers over at the moderately sized temple. On its sides, colored glass gives off vibrant colors. He shifts his attention towards the temple's walls, and frown. They're stout and will force them to attack through the front. In addition, the path towards the entrance contains rolling hills and forest cover that makes a full-on assault difficult. Worried, the tactician wonders how we will pull this off.

 _The place seems more like a fortress than a place of worship. What were the bandit's numbers? If they had more than half a dozen, they could easily repel any attack we throw their way. We need to make our next step carefully._

Samuel lets this thought simmers and focuses back of Kent's briefing, of which he'd been spending the past few minutes delivering. The red knight says, "From what locals have been telling me, the western wall seems in need of serious repair."

Suddenly, Samuel's ears perk up. An opportunity.

Sain smiles, his face radiating from a different, albeit similarly sourced opportunity. He says, "Kent! No need to bash these poor people on lack of funds! There is more to life than money, you know, like the milkmaid back home."

Lyn rolls her eyes. By this point, she'd long accustomed herself to Sain's shenanigans. "I will pretend like I didn't hear that..."

Amidst the banter, Samuel crowds out the external chatter and rubs his chin. He let sa variety of strategies flow into every synapse of my mind…

 _An attack from an unexpected front...if we could create a diversion through the front entrance...our knights could charge at their rear!_

 _!_

Samuel claps his hands together like he was the protagonist of a children's TV show. "Everybody. Come to me! I have a plan...!"

* * *

 **Later...**

There is a tense stare among the rolling hills. On one end, there stands a swords woman and her trusty green robed tactician. On the other, three bandits wonder why two weaklings would bother to challenge them. One of them, a drunkard named Boris, charges blindly towards Mark, who effortlessly steps aside and slashes Boris' left shin. Boris falls forward, allowing his partner to deliver a swift kick to his head, followed by a swift draw of her sword. By the time Boris hits the floor, he had already lost consciousness. He'd die within three minutes. His two bandit companions, in a fury, charges the assailants.

One goes for Lyn, who, using the rough terrain to her advantage, parries his aggression and drives a deep gash into the bandit's arm. Rather than risk a further brush with death, he limps away, throwing curses at the duo.

The other goes for Mark, whose pair of gold and amber eyes focuses on his opponent.

The bandit screams. "I'll get you for killing my friend!" He falls forward with his ax, and although he dodges the brunt of the blow, the bandit clips his shoulder, letting a crimson ooze drip on it. For a moment, Samuel winces as the wound radiates through his body. But, instead of regaining his body normally, he stands there in shock. An unnatural, and stuffing aura of shock.

Something's wrong…something feels wrong…

 _Agh! What is this feeling? Where am I?_

* * *

As if struck with a magic spell, Samuel finds himself still in the great plains of Sacae, but this time at a different location than before. The temple and hills around him morphs into a village blazing with fire. Screams penetrates his eardrums, clawing at his very soul. Suddenly, a couple appears in front of him. A husband and wife. They look at him with sheer terror in their eyes, but the man gathers his resolve and grabs an axe. Samuel can only stare as he throws it directly into his shoulder...

 _!_

Direct hit. He tumbles onto the ground, and in an instant, the couple erupts into flames...

* * *

Lyn watches as Mark steps back after taking a minor hit from his opponent, her green eyes unwavering as his face grimaces with pain. Although the sight doesn't bring her any pleasure, Mark's taken hits before, and initially, her concern doesn't stray away from burgeoning worry for the injury. But...something about him seems off. He's not preparing himself for his opponent's follow-up attack.

 _!_

Lyn eyes widen in horror as the bandit raises his ax to make the killing blow. Her heart flips onto its side, and her mind frantically spurns into action.

 _Mark's going to be killed!_

She extends her hand towards him in vain, as if some ranged mysterious force could stop the forces of death. She screams his name…

"Mark!"

* * *

 _Was that Lyn? This f-fire. These sounds. It's all a hallucination. I-I…I NEED TO SNAP OUT OF IT._

Samuel's vision comes back to him as sweat drips down his browned forehead. He breathes quick and unsteadily, unsure of what he'd just witnessed. However, he hardly has a moment to compose himself when he looks up to see the rusty end of an ax rapidly nearing his face.

"I'll kill you!"

Samuel ducks and rolls over behind his aggressor. His shoulder gives a brief impulse of pain as it hits the ground, though the ax lands harmlessly into the earth. Desperate to counter in some way, he kicks his heel deep into the bandit's back, causing him to lose his balance and lurch over. A flash of green appears over the disgruntled man, and it inflicts a deep cut on the bandit's chest. The bandit attempts to throw a punch at Lyn, but she's simply too fast. He misses and suffers a sword strike to his neck. He reaches for his wound as it bleeds profusely, eventually keeling over as he dies to blood loss.

Lyn sheathes her blade and rushes towards Samuel, vulnernary in hand. At first, Samuel expects some sort of medical attention to his newly injured shoulder, but he's sourly mistaken. Instead, she slaps him right across his face, a reward for his short-sighted behavior that nearly killed him.

 _!_

"Hey!"

Lyn's palm leaves a wide red mark on his cheek. Her angry expression and the fire in her eyes frightens Samuel to the core, as it would towards any other man. She exclaims, "What in Elimine's name were you doing?! You can't just stand there and wait for someone to hit you! You could have gotten yourself killed!"

Using her right hand to hold the tactician still, she removes the knot nestled on top of her vulnerary. She empties the medicine into his wound, and a comforting aura surrounds it. The skin around it magically begins to close up,

Still wincing in pain, Samuel responds, "I don't know what happened back there, it's like I was transported to a whole new world. A world full of pain."

Lyn calms herself, and to Samuel's astonishment she wipes a stray tear from her cheek. Never did he suspect she held him in such high regard in her life, nor of enough significance to lose some composure.

"A world full of pain? If it's all right, can you try to explain it?"

Samuel takes a moment to think, but the memory leaves about as quickly as it came. Gone, like dust in the wind. "It's gone...I don't remember it anymore. Everything's a haze now. But it felt so real..."

Lyn sighs, and she uses a rag to wipe some blood from his cut shoulder. She finishes treating the wound, afterword patting his shoulder. Samuel's not sure if this is recognition to herself for a job well done, or as reassurance towards him. Odds are, it's probably both. Somber, she says, "What am I going to do with you? Whatever. Your battles are my battles too, Mark. Remember that."

Samuel takes those words to heart, and his mind wanders, contemplating about Lyn. This…seems too much. Unable to keep this to himself, he speaks his mind. "Lyn...why are you so nice to me?"

Lyn nearly drops the empty vulnernary pouch onto the ground, clearly caught off guard by those words. Her eyes only momentarily shift from Samuel's pair of different colored orbs, and she idly wipes some dirt from her blue outfit. "What do you mean?"

"It's just that I get that we poke fun at each other sometimes, but I feel you always have my back. Why?"

Lyn pauses for a bit. Samuel can see she's thinking hard on her answer, her thought process reminding him a lot of his own. "It's just that, honestly Mark, you're the first friend I've had in a long time."

These words shock Samuel to another level. Lyn has always rubbed off on him as a social sort of person, even if her ger suggested a solitary lifestyle. By his perception, she sported the friendly demeanor, interesting personality, and attractive physique required to attract other human beings. Samuel just can't believe what Lyn is telling me, but he presses on further nonetheless.

He inquires, "A long time?"

She nods, "Yes, after my tribe was..."

Lyn hesitates, and her gaze shifts away. She finds herself struggling to continue...

Samuel says, "It's okay Lyn, you don't have to go on."

Samuel notices talking about her tribe brings Lyn a lot of pain. He offers her an escape to let her know he was there for her, but she declines. To her, it's important Samuel understands her pain. What she feels. "I was alone for so long. I lived out my days alone with my deteriorating sanity as my sole companion. You...you don't know how happy I was when I discovered you alive. More so when you agreed to take me along with you. In a way...when I saved you, you saved me as well."

These words touch Samuel, and he blushes. For a moment, he swears to see Lyn express a faint shade of red over her faint smile. Together, they feel a sense of mutual appreciation for one another.

He says, "I see...so you see me as a good friend?"

"Of course!"

This…feels like a new beginning to our relationship. Samuel can sense that they are becoming more comfortable with one another, and were opening up more as friends. He can only see positive things going forward…

SMACK!

The thought has little time to simmer when Lyn backhands the rear of his head. Samuel swears underneath his breath. She scorns, "Don't get used to my flower talk, tactician. We may be friends, but we're nothing more, nothing less. Don't get any bright ideas."

His head scrambling from the sub-concussive blow, Samuel speaks with an uncertain tone. "U-Understood."

Acting on her impulsive tendencies, Lyn turns around and punts the empty medicinal pouch into the temple. It's brown leather spirals with the wind as it comes out of view. It's truly a thing of beauty, but reality doesn't stop for anything, much less beauty…

"You know we have to get that back, right? Vulnerary pouches are worth more than the stuff inside."

"I guess we'll just have to go get it."

Samuel watches Lyn disappear into the temple. He grumbles some whispers of protest, but he end up following her anyway. They had done their part in securing the temple, and now all that's left is for the knights to do theirs.

* * *

Kent had tried everything to get this wall open. His lance, his sword, Sain's sword, and Sain's lance. He even tried getting one of the dispatched bandit's axes to do the job, only for him to break it on the first swing. This wall was much stronger than initially thought.

Sain walks up to the wall, his finger resting underneath his chin. He says, "Maybe we should try thinking outside the box."

He then proceeds to lean against the wall, which collapses immediately. Watching his brother-in-arms fall through the wall brings Kent much shock, and he walks over the help his comrade. While putting Sain on his feet, he notices a magnificent pillar holding up the temple.

 _A huge structure like this would need supports to keep it stable. Where's that rearguard that Mark was talking about?_

He sees a bandit poke his head from it. The mustached man locks eyes with him as he removes debris from Sain.

"Sain, get your sword."

* * *

 **Inside the Temple...**

Surrounded, Glass refuses to be believe how he landed himself in this situation. The enemy had dispatched all his goons, and now it's just them, him, and the Mani Katti. Sweat drips from every square inch of his skin, and his anxiety causes him to beat his sword against the floor…

Lyn steps forward, her posture reminiscent of a confident army general. The power she had emanating from her in commanding, almost intimidating. She says, "It doesn't have to end this way, leave the sword and be on your way."

Glass takes his sword and pointed it towards her, slamming it on the ground surrounding him. "You, woman, what makes you think you have a chance against me, Glass? WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?!" He readies his posture for battle. What he says next can only come from a man either delusional about his own strength, or desperate for an option. "Will you accept a duel on your honor?"

 _There's no way that Lyn was about to take this bait, right?_

As if on cue, Samuel's mouth falls open as he sees her entertain this mercenary's posturing.

She says, "I, Lyn of the Lorca tribe, accept your challenge."

She takes on a defensive stance and stares down her opponent. Baffled, Samuel tries to dissuade her from this obvious trap. "NO! What do you think you're doing?!"

Without turning to face him, she explains to him her reasoning. To Samuel's befuddlement, it's a cultural justification. "In Sacae, if a plainsman challenges another plainsman to duel on their honor, it is their obligation to accept. It is the law of Sacae, and if broken, will cause dishonor to my tribe."

"But if you die what will happen to us? Our mission!?"

Sain says, "Lyndis, please reconsider, your grandfather!"

Lyn continues to be fixed in her decision. Lyn's culture obviously holds a huge sway over her life, though Samuel can't understand why. All he sees is his friend putting herself in a potentially dangerous situation…

She says, "I have to…I'm the last of my tribe…I have to defend their honor, their memory."

Samuel shakes his head, his shock converting into frustration. "By Elimine, Lyn if you die I won't forgive you!"

"Don't worry, I won't."

Lyn engages Glass, and taking the initiative, she strikes first. Glass parries the blow and quickly tries to deliver a blow to her gut, but Lyn is quicker. She had gotten much better since her first battler, and she shows that by dodging the attack and delivering a quick sub-concussive blow to his head with the hilt of her sword. Glass drops his sword and lands on the floor with his hand covering a river of crimson.

Lyn approaches the man, the viciousness in her eyes disappearing. She says, "I won't kill you if I don't need to, but I will. Do you surrender?"

Glass looks up at his victorious opponent, his posture initially frail as if to convey surrender. However, this turns out to be a ruse. He takes something shiny and metallic out of his pocket, with the metal shining an intense ray of sunlight right into Samuel's cornea.

Covering his eyes, he says, "Ah!"

 _!_

All he hears is the quick draw of a sword and a painful scream. When his senses come to, Glass and the hidden steel dagger litter floor motionless. Glass is dead, and the temple is now safe. They have won the day.

* * *

Joseph hears a familiar man scream.

 _Has someone come to the sword's rescue?_

He limps out of his chamber to see a quartet of armed soldiers near the relic. Nearby lies the body of Glass. Elated, he approaches them, his head high in the light of his holy house's reclamation of freedom.

* * *

An old man appears seemingly out of nowhere.

Instinctively holding his weapon forward, Kent says, "Halt! Who goes there?"

The man stops, but his attire gives his status away. The group realize this man means them no harm. He is the temple's holy man.

He says, "I can't thank you enough for saving the sword."

The man offers to allow us them touch the blade so they could receive its divine protection. Lyn goes first, and as she closes her eyes as she focuses her aura into it, praying for a safe journey.

 _I have a slight feeling she isn't praying for herself._

Suddenly, the blade glows, and it brightens the room. Lyn looks at the priest with a sense of mystery in her eyes. The priest's smile says it all.

"At last." says the priest. "All these years...generations upon generations of holy men predating the Scouring. The blade calls out to you young lady. The Mani Katti has found its owner."

* * *

 **Later...**

Lyn says, "Wow...the Mani Katti...I can't believe it."

The group had since left the temple and situated ourselves at a faraway hill. The sky is clear as ever, and the setting sun paints the landscape a coat of burnt orange. The grass stays still from the calm wind, and a river chugs away nearby. They look over a mystical fascination at Lyn's unfamiliar weapon, which sports a metal no one can identify.

Holding her weapon in front of her, Lyn adda, "I'll admit, I feel uncomfortable being chosen to wield it."

Kent smiles. "The sword itself chose you. If the spirits inside the sword say so...who are we to deny it's will?"

Lyn returns the sword into its scabbard, her insecurities calmed by her knight's reassurance. "Well I suppose your right."

Samuel asks, "Although that priest was thankful that we rescued him, I wonder what he'll do with his life now?"

Sain shrugs his shoulders. "Yeah...I wonder".

* * *

Joseph's mission is complete, though to be honest, he had assumed he'd be long dead before that happened. Now, with the absence of his residence's chief relic, what is to happen to the shrine? What about himself? Maybe he'll join his brothers further south.

 _Yes, that's what I'll do._

All that is left is to say goodbye to the neighbors that were so kind to him during his duty here…

Before leaving his home, he looks back and thinks about all the memories with Father Richard, Father Orasco, and Elder Micheal. He leaves one thing nailed on the table that used to hold the sword. A letter.

 _Dear travelers, over the 70 years that I've been here, I've had the honor of guarding a sacred relic that gave protection to everyone that asked for it. Over the centuries this sword has been here, we've helped countless amounts of people. I would not give that away for anything. However, recently the sword called out to a young woman on a mission, a lady with a heart of gold. In honor of all the holy men who came before me, I declare that our mission to defend this blade complete. I wish you all the best, and rejoice with me that the blade, after all these years, has finally found its rightful owner._

 _From, Father Joseph._

* * *

 **That night...**

The slight drizzle that appeared out of nowhere earlier quickly worsened into a full-on storm. In light of that, Kent quickly felled some trees for building materials, which the group used to create a lean-to made from leftover buffalo skin Lyn had stored away. With that out of the way, the knights ignited a fire to provide some well-needed heat. They all crowd around the small structure, content to conserve as much heat as possible. The distance between them is shoulder to shoulder, with Kent to Samuel's right and Lyn to his left.

Kent asks, "Who'll stay up for the first watch?"

Samuel replies, "I will, I barely ever do, so I got to make it up to you guys somehow."

Lyn agrees with tired eyes. "Better get to it."

No one says a word, hoping that the sounds of the storm are enough to take them through a woeful sleep. Stray, isolated beads of rain splash onto Samuel's face, but he continues to sit with the others, unfazed. The constellations that he had grown fond of hide behind gray clouds. Fierce wind brushes up against him, but his robe succeeds in preserving his warmth. The fire dances against these conditions, always threatened, but never conceding.

 _!_

A wave of astonishment washes over Samuel when Lyn lays her head on his shoulder. He feels his stomach jump, and Lyn responds with a mischievous chuckle.

She whispers, "Don't...get the wrong idea. You owe me a life debt...and I'm tired. Your shoulder makes a good head rest...even if it's nothing but bone. Pack on some weight, will you?"

"I'm not even sure how to react to that."

"Don't. Just be quiet. Let me sleep..."

Her breathing slows, and eventually, drowsiness overtakes her. One by one everyone dozes off, with the blaze's embers dimming with time. Samuel fights the urge to join his friends...

Through the thicket of trees and rain, a lone tactician waits for his turn to finally get some rest.

* * *

 **A/N: Patch written to fix prose (7/8/2020)**


	5. Band of Mercenaries

**Chapter 4: Band of Mercenaries**

 **By _SodiumChloride12, made with content from Fire Emblem, owned by Nintendo._**

 ** _A/N: Some of y'all may have noticed that I've taken a bit of liberty of the storyline. Make sure the review so I can better my content for you guys. Enjoy!_**

* * *

 _I laid on an open cot with medical equipment nearby. Everything was in a haze, but I made out a black figure nearby. A thick white cloth covered my body, which I could not move. Something is chilling me to the bone, and it was hard to breathe._

 _The figure removed part of the cloth from my body, taking care not to hurt me._

 _"You were pretty beat up, sir." he said._

 _He grabbed a wet cloth and placed it on my arm. I felt a stinging pain as the alcohol sterilized my wound. I winced in silence._

 _"Not one to talk, are you?" he asked._

 _"The Elder...where is she?" I replied._

 _"The elder? Why that would be my mother. Get some rest first. You must be in some terrible pain. Those questions can wait." he said._

 _I looked out the window to see a mountain filled to the top with snow. The white blanket reflected a strong light on my vision. Surrounding it were acres upon acres of trees. I spied a white rabbit blending in with the snow. I looked away and focused on the man tending to my arm._

 _Tenderly, he said, "By the way, mister...who do I have the pleasure of helping today?"_

* * *

 **Somewhere in Sacae...**

Acres upon acres of grass surrounded us. The area around gradually began to brighten with the rising sun. Nearby, through the brush we had camouflaged ourselves in, I spotted a great bison away from its herd. The bison was peacefully eating the plentiful green plant, in stark contrast to its appearance. It stood at about a couple feet above my size, and it had large, intimidating horns protruding through its head. It must have weighed at least a ton, well above its means to flatten me to a pulp. Anxious, I allow a bead of sweat to drip onto the soft grass below.

Lyn lurked nearby with a bow in hand. She had black face paint on despite my protests that this did not help her camouflage at all. I remembered what she said earlier...

 _She looks at me with a puzzled look in response to my claim. After taking a moment to process what I had just said, she replies unfazed, "You think this is face paint? This is so I can hide my scent. It's bison fe-"_

 _I waved my arms frantically, "WOAH woah! STAHHHHHP!"_

Technically, I wasn't wrong, but some things are best left unsaid. Lyn looked at me with her...face thing, and uses her bunched up fist to motion something with her hand. It resembles someone eating soup, and I raise my brow with curiosity. Confused, I search my mind to make what sense of what Lyn just did…and then it hits me. It was the signal we had agreed on earlier…

 _We were walking towards the hunting ground in darkness, and Lyn told me some important information._

 _"When I give you the signal, I want you to be still so I can get the kill off." she said._

 _"Understood. Wait a minute, if you don't need my help for this hunt, then why am I here?"_

 _Lyn rolled her eyes, "To help me carry the kill back to camp genius. Here I was thinking you were the brains of the group."_

 _I slammed my left boot into the ground, "I am! It's just that I've never been hunting before and I just want to make sure I know what I'm doing."_

 _Lyn sighed, "I suppose you're right. We're almost there so be quiet. We don't want to catch their attention. Elimine help us if one of those bison hears us. We'd stand no chance against a charging bison..."_

Lyn slowly rose from her hiding spot as grass stuck onto her clothing. A bird flew overhead, oblivious to our slight movements. I tried to calm myself by taking slow breaths, but my runny nose made that impossible. My nose irritates more and more as pollen from the surrounding grasses flies into my sinuses. I silently curse myself as the sensation became too much to bear.

 _!_

Just as Lyn was about to release the arrow, I lurch forward in a vain attempt to deafen my sneeze.

"Achoo!"

Lyn flinches, and she unwillingly shifts her gaze towards the rising sun. Her finger leaves her weapon's notch, and her eyes water from temporary. Time slowed down as the arrow flew into the animal's left shoulder.

OH NO!

My gaze scrambles over to Lyn, whose expression quickly turned from one of anger to one of sheer terror. Everything stopped as the animal lifted its head away from its meal and towards us.

"Grrrrrrrr…."

The animal planted its hoof into the ground and it charges at us. Thinking quickly, Lyn grabs me by the hand.

"We have to run!"

My boots hit the dirt immediately, and with Lyn nearby, we attempted to outrun the large beast. The bison lumbers and swerves The surrounding large grass impeded our movement, and Lyn's usually swift feet became bogged down. It covers my robe with grass burrs and other nuisances, and I pondered discarding it all together…

 _!_

"Ack!"

The bison rams its head into my back, launching me several feet (meters) into the air. I fall down onto the grass with a large thud, though for a while adrenaline keeps the pain away. Lyn rushed over to me as I began to lift myself from the ground.

Lyn offers her hand as she helped me from the ground. She asked, "Are you all right?"

My back creaked when I tried to support myself under my own weight. The pain was irritating and put me in a bad mood.

I gave Lyn the dead eye, "I don't know, I just took a direct hit from a bloody _bison_. What do you think, _princess_?"

Lyn didn't appreciate my attitude. In fairness she didn't deserve it, but at the moment I required an outlet for my frustrations.

Lyn shot back, This wouldn't have happened if you didn't mess up my shot!"

I gritted my teeth, "I sneezed okay? It was-"

Before I could finish my sentence, the bison charged again, narrowly missing as it parted between us. The animal tripped on a nearby rock, falling as landed on its head.

Amid the chaos, I got a stray thought…an idea…

I point towards the nomad, "Lyn! Let me get on your shoulders!"

Flabbergasted, she shook her head, "What! No! W-Why would I-, THAT'S THE STUPIDEST THING I'VE EVER HEARD!"

I tried to explain my reasoning, "Look! If we can look bigger than the bison, then it'll leave us alone."

Lyn refuses to listen, "No no no! I won't let you get on my back! It's weird!"

The bison began to rise from the ground and recovered from its dazed state. Out of desperation, I take Lyn and strained my muscles as I lifted her up into my shoulders. My back tweaked under the weight but my will wins out. Clenching my teeth, I endure the strike of pain I had now become all too familiar with.

The bison's eyes lock with mine, and I freeze in place. Beads of sweat accumulate on my body, and I feel Lyn's goosebumps as I faced down the beast. The bison approaches us, and I hold my ground. It came within a mere foot from my chest, and I could reach out and touch it. The tension in the air of stifling, and we were completely at the mercy of this beast...

In an act of pure desperation, I wave my arms frantically. Lyn at first was hesitant, but she followed suit. The bison takes a step back, and his eyes go wide open. I inch closer to the beast...and to my astonishment the much larger being inches away. As the final nail in the coffin; I clear my throat and bellowed the loudest yell I could muster.

"AGHHHHHHH!"

The bison turns and ran to return to the rest of the herd. Lyn and I look on as it ate more grass with the rest of its kin, and we gave a collected sigh.

 _!_

As if on cue, my back finally gives in. Lyn fell onto the floor as I writhed in pain...

 **…**

Instead of a bison, Lyn carried a frail tactician on her back. They made the journey back to camp in silence, both upset by the events of that morning.

* * *

 **Later that day, in a mountain pass...**

After some traveling, we came upon some mountains that covered Sacae's southwestern border. Although they were a trouble to pass through, they at least served as a milestone in our journey. Soon, we will leave the plains of Sacae and enter the borders of Lycia. Then our journey will be over…

I smile at the thought, life on the road has been difficult. My body has broken down somewhat, and I wonder how long I could continue this way. I rest hand against a makeshift back brace I had constructed out of many blades of grass, wood, and cloth. Although the device was primitive, it should support my weight until it healed completely. My back still aches from the incident, but I should still be battle-ready.

I think about Lyn. We hadn't spoken to each other since the hunt which makes sense. Lyn's mad at me for sneezing and messing up her shot, and I'm mad at her for being mad at me. Reasonable right?

 _Yeah, totally._

Who am I kidding? This whole thing is stupid…I should apologize to her and clear the air. I can't afford drama in a group so small. Especially with a girl like her.

 _Where is she anyway?_

I look at the two knights that traveled in the group's vanguard. They were chatting about their homeland, but Lyn was nowhere in sight.

 _Odd...she was just there._

 _!_

"Hey Mark, I want to talk."

A voice unexpectedly appears over my shoulder, and I jump up in fright. Apparently, she had come back there when my mind was in a tizzy. I never noticed…

We turn towards each other and exchange glances. I look at her like a deer in headlights, and I stop short from swearing out loud.

"Holy-, Lyn! By the gods!"

"Oh? I'm sorry...did I scare you?"

Whatever momentum I had towards talking to Lyn evaporated. I fumble through my words like I was trying to pick up a ball covered in mud…

"Ye- Well, Erm…shoot…"

We were unsure of what to say next, and the awkwardness quickly spirals out of control as the initial hesitance rapidly turns into several agonizing seconds. My refusal to initiate eye contact didn't help either.

 _This is so weird...maybe I should make an excuse to leave._

Lyn breaks the silence, "Look, about earlier. It wasn't your fault that your allergies came up...and honestly, I never should've put you in that kind of situation. It's all my fault...and I'm really...really sorry."

 _Wait...she's apologizing to me? I was the one being the jerk…but…_

 _No, this is like her. In the few weeks I've known her she's always settled conflicts with others. As a person who carries her emotions on her sleeve…this is necessary for us to coexist in peace._

I replied, "No it's my fault...if only I held it in for a bit lo-"

She shakes her head, "Stop. It's my fault. None of this wouldn't have happened if it wasn't for m-"

"No, I messed up an expert marksmen's shot. Let m-"

"But if I hadn't forced you t-"

 _This isn't going anywhere…_

I grab her right hand and bring it close to me. I didn't know what came over for me then…but…

I felt it was necessary…

I said, "If it weren't for my gross incompetence..."

I sense Lyn's warm hand tense up within my grasp. We lock eyes again, though this time both of our faces went tomato red.

 _!_

My face stings with pain, and my panicked eyes meet with Lyn's pair of flustered orbs. For a single moment our hearts twisted and danced like two delicate butterflies…though it didn't last long. Any chemistry we shared evaporates within the blink of an eye, leaving two confused and speechless teens.

"…"

"…"

"Is something wrong?"

Kent's large frame peeks out from my peripheries, and his presence was enough to shock us both back into reality. However, ice continued to flow through my veins…so Lyn was the first to respond in kind.

Lyn chided, "Everything is fine sir knight."

Kent spies my dazed face…and then looks away. He read my face faster than an altar boy trying to get through morning prayers, and it was enough to tell him everything he needed to know.

"Very well…"

Confident we weren't being eavesdropped, Lyn looks me dead in the eye.

"We're square now. All right?"

I nodded silently, and we continued on our merry way. Given time, the pain from the blow heals…and we continue on like nothing had happened.

* * *

We continued our way through the mountain pass, and take a break by an old sign. It was a simple structure that poked out in defiance of the sturdy rock around it, though its lettering was too intelligible to read.

Curious, I look over at the sign, a structure that looked close to nearly collapsing under its own weight. I squint my eyes but couldn't read the blurred language on its brown canvas.

T…v.. M…t…

The sun was high in the sky, and the late spring heat bore on us. I gave myself a fresh whiff of mountain pollen and winced when my allergies hit me harder than a Greyhound bus.

 _Ugh...this again. It's getting everywhere…it's so nasty…_

I dredge up the snot with my handkerchief and see something over the distance. At first I think it was a migraine, as it was normal for random "dots" to occasionally toy with my perception.

 _Crap another one of these?! Can today get any worse? Wait a minute..._

However, more I focus on it, the more the smoke changed . The squiggly transparent blobs transform into thick gray lines. No, not even that...almost black. Black like smoke.

 _Smoke? Why would something be burning out here?_

I scamper over to Kent and grab his horse by his stirrup. He turns around and looks at me.

"Do you see that? It's smoke." I said.

Kent figs into his pack and retrieves some binoculars. Keeping steady breaths, he places the device onto his eyes. What he saw instantly confirms my assumption.

"Something is burning...it's too thick to be from a campsite."

Lyn stops and tilts her head in curiosity. "What?!"

I pointed towards the floating black smoke, "Yeah, there's a fire over there."

Lyn began to panic, "There's a village near here! We have to hurry!"

"Wait for real? Out here?!" I exclaimed.

Kent returned the binoculars to his pack, "As you wish milady."

The group hurriedly moved towards the smoke, leaving behind a sign that at one point, said "Taliver Mountain."

* * *

 **In a nearby village...**

We stumble into a village huddled deep with the mountains, and I'm taken aback by its state of disrepair. Previously sturdy walls had in some areas crumbled away and the parts that didn't have since been conquered by vegetation. Multiple nearby farms lay unattended, with broken tools littering the side of the road. Multiple dwellings seemed deserted, and the ones that weren't had their doors locked shut.

!

I catch the glimpse of a little girl outside of her home...only for her to scamper inside to the safety of her home. The village folk were obviously wary of our presence…which intrigued me. Sacaens were usually enthusiastic towards travellers in these parts…

Lyn said, "That's odd…do you feel that too, Kent?"

The red knight agrees, "Indeed. These people didn't act like this before when Sain and I travelled through these parts…"

Curious for answers, we make our way towards the town's square…

The square was a simple location that had seen better days. Snakes crowd an empty corner of a cracked main fountain, and a lone bench leg stands over a once comfortable resting place. Vegetation covers the wall a bright fresco formerly occupied, and we treaded our way through the thick brush.

"This village...I can't believe it." Lyn said.

Sain looks ahead, "This place is in complete ruin, but isn't there some sort of leader in charge? Like a marquess?"

Lyn shakes her head, "No marquess has sway here. Taliver mountain is home to vicious bandits. Nobody could control the raids. My village was near here...on the other side of the mountain. T-They [the Taliver bandits] came at night. We had been afflicted with a great illness, and nobody had the strength to stop them. They butchered us all so quickly..."

* * *

 **Approximately one year ago...**

Lyn stood atop a hill located outside her village. Her green hair waved effortlessly with the wind, her eyes showing signs of past sobbing. She stood there taking heavy breaths, a symptom of the great illness that had rocked her village. She looked upon the simple headstone of her aunt, the sister of her father. She was buried here yesterday, having fallen prey to the great suffering that had killed half her people.

 _Am I next? Or my parents? How many more have to die?_

Taliver Mountain stood nearby, like a stubborn hawk unwilling to leave its prey. It sure felt that way, those men had been trying to sack home for years. Although they had not attacked in several months, their continued presence unnerved Lyn and the Lorca tribe. A vulture took flight from the mountain and landed on a tree near to Lyn.

A bad omen.

Lyn coughed as a red ooze spat onto her hand. Her breathing had been getting progressively worse as the days go by. She had been hoping that she would beat this disease soon, but like the grass that populates Sacae, it never seems to go away. She placed her hand on her head as she tried to offset pressure from her headache. The cloudy sky was the only witness to her pain. As the time approached dusk, Lyn couldn't help but wonder when the sun would rise again on her people.

Through all the hardship, it had never grazed Lyn's mind that this would be the end of her people. No matter how many people died, as long as there were survivors, the Lorca would live on. The day to rebuild was coming, eventually. Or so she thought.

A loud explosion rocked the north wall of her village. Smoke filled the sky as a green flame began to ignite her village. Screams began to fill the air.

 _Oh no! We're under attack! I have to see my father! We need to defend the village!_

Lyn broke into a sprint as her lungs struggled to respire. As she reached the south gate, she broke into a violent coughing fit as her body struggled to cope. The usual guards were gone. She looked ahead to see a bandit break into a ger and catch the building on fire.

"Why...what do we have here? A lass?"

Lyn had just recovered her breathing when a tall, gruff looking man grabbed her by the collar and lifted into the air. She lurched for him to let go, but the effort was fruitless. She was too weak.

"Let me go!" she exclaimed.

Another bandit emerged, his pants full of plunder, "Aye Kayn. You can't have all the women to yourself. You have to share. Let me have some fun."

 _F-F-Fun?_

Kayn responded, "Hell no Olag! If I should share with anyone, it's that tactician Azazel! His plan was flawless! If it wasn't for him...we wouldn't have been able to pull this off!"

Olag replied, "Azazel! That man's a genius, but he's emotionless. He's almost like a zombie. I doubt he has any urge for female company."

Kayn laughed. With his free hand, he showed Olag his locket. "I'll bet you this locket he does!"

Through the men's banter, Lyn spied a black-robed figure slowly walking across the street. He had green flames all around his body and did not seem at all affected by it. The men noticed him and immediately garnered his attention.

"Oi! Azazel! Come here! We want to ask you a question!" said Kayn.

The man stopped and turned towards them. The man was wearing a black hood that covered his face. He spoke with a monotonous tone. "May I help you?"

 _Was this man human?_

Olag pointed towards Lyn, "Kayn wants to ask if you have a woman-loving bone in you. If you get what I mean."

"The girl?" Azazel replied.

Kayn nodded, "I hope nerds like you know what you want."

Through the black hood, Lyn saw two golden eyes and a lock of black hair. The sight frightened Lyn.

 _This man...he isn't human!_

"Please! Let me go!" she shouted.

Ignoring Lyn, he said, "My only want is to serve my master. You men do as you please as long as it does not affect my mission."

Kayn said, "Aw come on man! You gotta atl-"

A voice erupted from a nearby alleyway.

"GET YOUR ARMS OFF HER!"

An ax came out of nowhere and dug itself deep into Kayn's ribs. He howled as he dropped Lyn onto the floor. A flash of blue delivered a swift cut into Olag's chest. The two men recoiled as the came into realization with their injuries.

"H-How?" said Kayn.

Olag coughed up blood, "I'm hurt."

As Lyn fell in the air, she landed into the arms of someone very familiar. Her father.

"Mom and Dad!" She coughed. "You saved me!"

Hassar limped forward as he caught his daughter. His joints ached as he gradually loses strength. He looked over at his wife Madelyn, who was breathing heavily with her sword and horse.

Hassar readied his throwing ax, "You! Azazel! You devil! How dare you attack the Lorca! I will strike you down!"

Ignoring Hassar, Azazel replied, "A horse? I had the bandits raze the stables first."

Madelyn disembarked from her horse and with the last of her strength, lifted Lyn up into it.

"Mom? What are you doing?" asked Lyn.

Madelyn grabbed her daughter's hands, "That man Azazel...he's powerful. I don't think we or anybody in this village has the strength to defeat him. This horse was the only survivor in the stable. Honey...please. Ride away from here. As fast as you can. "

"But what about you and Papa?!"

Madelyn looked towards her husband, who looked back and nodded softly. This was the only way.

"We will buy you time. Please...leave."

Lyn replied, "But if the village falls, then what will become of the Lorca, our people! I want to help defend our way of life!"

Hussar exclaimed, "As long as you live my daughter, the Lorca lives as well! Leave and live!"

A green jet of flame made its way to Hussar, who barely dodged the blow.

"Father!" exclaimed Lyn.

Azazel stepped forward with his eyes glowing green; he pointed at the bandits. "You two, leave and get treated. I will not tolerate casualties. I will harvest their quintessence alone."

Kayn and Olga saluted, "Yes sir!" and trotted away. Azazel faced his opponents alone.

"You two have high quintessence levels. This will please my master greatly." he said.

Hussar used the last of his strength to deliver a swift strike into Azazel's right arm. Azazel fell back and hit the ground.

Madelyn said, "Lyn leave. Now."

Lyn grabbed the reins of her horse as she began riding her way out of the village. She turned as she saw her parents get engulfed in green flame. With tears in her eyes, she left the place she always called home, never to return.

* * *

"The s-survivors only numbered less than ten...including me. Of a tribe that numbered 15,000. Everyone that I loved died because of them. They're soulless beasts. I'll never forgive them. Never."

 _By Elimine, she lost everything..._

We stood there in silence, gaining a newfound respect for our green nomad.

Sain broke the silence, "I'm so sorry."

Lyn shakes her head. She composed herself and lights a new fire to her eyes.

"I won't run away. I'll be back. Stronger. I will break their swords and bring down that clan. Alone if I have to. I will avenge my people."

Sain comforted Lyn, "And when the time comes, bring me with you."

"Sain."

"Don't forget me either." Kent said.

"Kent."

I add, "I'll be there as well. Let me lead the swords that avenge your people's demise."

"Mark…"

We stand there still, and we think about all the loss she suffered in her life. For someone as young as her, she's taken about as much hardship as a lot of others wouldn't take in multiple lifetimes. I'm certain that if her sorrow were distributed between everyone in Elibe, not one would be smiling.

Still, our princess of the Lorca tribe still blesses us with one of her own. Her smile tickled the outer layering of my heart…and it feels enlightening.

She said, "Thank you...really."

…

After that, we hurry over to the source of the smoke. There was a village to save, and we couldn't waste a single moment…

Turning the corner, I notice two strong looking individuals confronting a little girl with lavender hair and a...horse?

"Be on your guard Lyndis. There appears to be a commotion," said Kent.

Puzzled, Lyn neared closer, "That's...a Pegasus. Could it be?"

Lyn gets closer to the little girl…erm if you can call her that. She looks too mature to be- oh dear. She's around my age isn't she?

"Florina?"

"Ah! Lyn!"

The girl rushes over the Lyn. The duo shares a subtle but friendly hug. It was odd to see Lyn with this girl of mysterious origins…though it wasn't my place to complain. Prodding for information was a different case, however.

I asked, "So I take that you guys know each other?"

Lyn replied, "Yes, she's my friend, Florina, a Pegasus Knight in training from Ilia. She's a tad bit uncomfortable around men. Tell me, Florina, what happened here?"

Illia is a frigid land to the north. It's home to majestic pegasi among other things, though I'll have to admit that I must read up on that place sometime soon. I'm still not antiquated with the geopolitical situation of Elibe.

Though, I find it unusual that Lyn would bring up something so minor during her introduction. Why is she nervous around men, and to what degree? Is there some childhood trauma I'm not aware of…just how should I deal with Florina going forward?

 _…_

 _Bah, I'll figure this out later…_

Florina replied, "Well...um...When I heard that you left...I wanted to follow you. I landed in this village to ask about you. I didn't see those two over there so..."

The two men I saw earlier lurk nearby, and one of them had an ice pack over his forehead. They anger on their faces were self-evident, if not damning.

"Did your Pegasus land on them?" asked Lyn.

"Well, I...A little." she said.

I picture this lavender haired flower girl somehow land her half-ton animal onto this poor chap…and I just can't. The thought felt more fiction than fact…though I suppose bad ridership has a habit of causing mischief.

One brigand shoots Florina a glaring look, "Aha! You heard her! She admits! She stepped on my friend and now she's got to pay!"

Lyn…was not about to throw her friend under the bus. She wouldn't even do something like that to me…

She asked, "Did you apologize Florina?"

Florina nods, but seems to shrink behind Lyn by the minute. "Yes, I told them over and over. They wouldn't listen."

 _!_

Overwhelmed with emotion, Florina cries. Empowered with an innate sense of protectionism for her friend, Lyn tries to talk some sense into the bandits.

"Look, she obviously sorry, Florina don't cry...it's alright,"

The brigand bangs his fist onto a nearby wall. "No chance! The girl goes with us-by force if need be!"

Oh boy, these guys are slavers aren't they?

I said, "Woah Woah! Maybe we can talk about this? Just to let you know I don't sit well with slavers. Surely you'll be willing to let this slide?"

The bandit spits on my shoes. My right eye twitches with annoyance.

"Cocky are ye?! We're the Ganelon bandits! We call the shots around here!"

 _This man just defiled my boots. How...HOW DARE HE?!_

I quickly slashed the idiot's face with my dagger. I did it without a hint of remorse or hesitation.

He said, "Aagh! "You'll regret that…!"

They retreat towards the northern end of the village. He then proceeds to call out towards his cronies who had been hiding in the shadows this entire time.

"Come on out boys! The men are fair game, but don't put a scratch on the girls!"

Bandits appear from all over. A mercenary scrummages behind a nearby wall, while an archer lurked behind, who despite the leader's warning, seemed hellbent on dispatching Florina…

Florina squealed, "A-Archers! What do we do?"

Sain's eyes go wide open.

He exclaimed, "This is an ambush! Everybody, be careful!"

* * *

"So what now Tactician?" asked Kent.

I observe our situation. Enemies at every corner…but most were far outside of my personal view. I didn't have a good angle to see everything…Unless...

I look over at our Pegasus rider, "Hey Florina."

Florina nods, "Y-Yes M-Mister?"

I put up the nicest tone that I could, it was something in between baby speak and advent professionalism.

"Do you think you can give a ride up so I can see everything? It'd be very good for the team."

"F-For the team? Um. I t-think I could. Just get on h-here…"

…

Lyn looks on with concerned eyes as Florina and I gained altitude. She cries out inaudible cries for me to get back down…but this opportunity was too good to pass on…

Riding a Pegasus was surreal. Notwithstanding the tactical possibilities of Pegasi, being away from the ground felt be liberating. Everyone looked like ants from up here; the houses nearby, the bandits, the guy that spat on my shoes, the archer from the corner of my eye...

"EEK! AN ARCHER!" She pulls her reins back. and I nearly lose my balance.

"Florina calm down! With the way the wind is blowing right now that archer would be wasting his arrows!"

"Huh?!

Florina watches as an arrow flew towards her...only for it to wildly miss its target by a hundred meters. She breathes a sigh of relief when she realized she was in no immediate danger.

"Oh...y-your right, mister. I'm s-sorry."

Florina cries…again…

 _By Father Sky and Mother Earth, this girl can fill a river._

I said, "It's okay Florina. I'd probably freak out too. Come on...let's go down."

Florina wipes a tear from her face.

"I'm s-sorry mister. I can be so useless s-sometimes."

At times like these, souls like her always appreciated one thing. Positive reinforcement.

I boasted, "Useless? This intel will win us the day! You're not useless! You're amazing!"

"R-Really? A-Amazing? T-Thank you mister. W-We're almost back to the ground…"

Florina gracefully lands her steed and then allows me to disembark. She had a bright smile on her face similar to the one Lyn had given us earlier, and I reciprocated.

I said, "Thank you for your excellent work milady. By the way, you can call me Mark."

I hold out my hand. Florina hesitates to take it, but caved in to the request.

Weakly shaking my hand, she said, "Nice t-to meet you, Mark. You seem to be a k-kind m-man."

 _Damn, this handshake is horrible. If she's not assertive with her handshake, then I bet she's not taking life by the reins either…_

I raise my hand and rally the surrounding troops. I was fairly confident in the information I had just received with Florina, and I'm certain I could develop a plan to win us the day.

I exclaimed, "Alright troops! Come around! I'm going to show y'all how we will win this!"

Sain raises his hand.

"Yes, Sain?"

"What's a y'all?

* * *

Wil had been trying to get home for a while now. The plan was to return to Lycia and eventually Pharae through Taliver path. These villagers made that step that much easier, one even provided a bed for him to sleep on. He was about to leave soon, but his host's wife arrived screaming about a bandit attack. He didn't have it in his heart to slip away. Rather, he would pay them back for their generosity by planting himself on the kitchen table with his bow aimed straight for the door.

I'll protect these good people…

He hears a knock.

[knock][knock]

Too soft for bandit's hands...but too calm for a desperate person looking for shelter. He takes his chances and made to the door with a kitchen knife…

A man wearing green armor and a mopey hairstyle greeted him...

…

With the full confidence of Lyn's makeshift army behind him, he shoots the first man he saw dead.

* * *

Sain reported, "Mark! We have dispatched the enemy archer!"

I turn around to see a dead archer leaning against the wall.

"But I didn't give an order..?"

"I ran into a man who wanted to help defend this village. I'm afraid he's a little trigger-happy…his name is Will."

 _Wow! Just like that, they lost half of their archer coverage! I can't believe my luck!_

"Tell Wil that if he keeps getting hits like that, he can get MY job."

Lyn takes that statement literally, and beckons me not say anything I'd regret.

"Mark, don't say that."

"Come on princess! I'm just joking around."

"You better be…"

* * *

Afterward, the rest of the job was relatively easy. Our knights took care of the goons by the only armory in town while Lyn and I created a bottleneck near some woods, forcing one-on- one engagements that limited their numbers advantage. We switched spots occasionally when she got tired, and pulled off a faux retreat maneuver to allow our calvary a charge into the brunt of their forces. With the village nearly secured, all that was left was the two goons that started this whole mess.

"Eh...Migal maybe we shouldn't have tried to steal that lady."

"There is no WAY that I'm letting that bitch walk! Quiet! Here they come right now!"

Our group arrive near the smoldering pile of ash that used to be a family's home.

 _Honestly, what were these idiots thinking? Let's go hide by the only place in town that has no cover! What can possibly go wrong?_

Lyn said, "Halt! If I listened correctly, you people are not the Taliver correct?"

Insulted, Migel responded, "Those animals? We don't associate with them! Hell, they'll even kill women and children!"

Lyn loses a noticeable amount of intensity, but the forcefulness in her voice was still intimidating.

"Then we have no business with you. Leave with your lives while you still can!"

"No...no...not after everything that happened today! You're going to learn to watch your mouth!"

I casually walk over the Lyn and whispered in her ear, "I've spoken to several of the villagers here. Apparently they've been living through hell because of these guys. I recommend that we don't hold back.

Lyn agrees, "Very well. We will liberate these villagers from their plight!"

The entire group, lances, swords, bows and all, charges towards the duo. I'm left behind in bewilderment of what had just happened.

Disappointed, I said, "I thought I was the Tactician here…"

The two had no chance. We cut them down where they stood, and the last thing they saw before their deaths were the burnt remains of the dwelling they destroyed.

* * *

There was life in the village again. Everyone that was healthy crowded around the only tavern in town. The tavern itself was a humble little building, complete with multiple tables, drinks, and a sociable owner. Despite the shape the town was in, they had scrapped together what they had and threw a feast for the day's heroes…

I shared a table with Lyn and Florina, with a parchment in hand. The others were frolicking amongst the locals.

One man raises a glass to us and asked, "And what man leads this fair legion?"

Kent replied, "We are led by Lady Lyndis, through the wisdom of our tactician Mark. This is Lyn's Legion."

The entire building laid quiet for a second, and they laid eyes on Lyn, who was drinking what Saceans called _Lacutupe_ (Goat's Milk). She notices he attention and took the opportunity to speak her case.

She said, "We are traveling to visit Lord Hausen, my grandfather."

"Isn't that Marquess Caelin?

Sain replied, "The one and the same."

"Well then, in this case, may pegasi fall on your enemies! And to our sobriety!

After that, the entire tavern shouted in agreement, and the merriment continued.

The night progressed uneventfully, and I spent most of the evening preparing a sketch. Meanwhile, a younger nameless fellow noticed my pen and asked what I was doing.

"What are you drawing there, you an artist?"

I nodded, "Of sorts, mind answering a question for me? Who's the mayor of this town?"

He replied, "I don't remember, it's been a while since Porrety had one."

"Very well, take this then."

I take the parchment and secure it in his grasp.

"Form a council of the citizens and find one, do it tomorrow even. It won't be long until the Ganelon return. These are plans and instructions for temporary and permanent walls for the town. Give this to the new mayor."

The man scratched his head, "Wow! Thank you, sir! These seem comprehensive, how long have you been working on these?"

"Since the battle was over."

"Porrety will relish this gift! If you people ever need anything, we are in your debt!"

The man goes away, and I slump in my chair. My head ached with sleep-deprivation…and boy what I could do for an hour of resting my eyes…

Lyn asked, "Wow Mark, didn't take you as much as an engineer."

I shrugged, "I learn something about myself every day it seems."

"Why don't you take a drink? Let loose a bit. Starting in the morning, we'll be back to full speed."

I declined, "There's something about alcohol that sets me off, I can't explain it. The scent gives me a headache."

"Well then, why not take some _Lactupe_?"

She takes her glass and put it forward so I could look at it. It was blue and creamy in texture.

I said, "That stuff's blue, I'm uneasy looking at it."

"At least give it a shot. Come on, even a stuck-up like you should enjoy life sometimes."

Lyn winks her eye suggestively, though I'm too tired to make anything of it.

I asked, "Why not ask Florina? I'm sure she'll be happy to enjoy your weird food."

She sighed, "She snuck away a while back, I think she's retired already."

 _Must be past her bedtime I suppose._

"She and Wil have agreed to tag along with us to Caelin."

"Wait, Wil agreed to join us? I'd expect Florina to, it's in her training to join a mercenary corps at some point…but Will…"

We both look at Wil, who was drinking up a storm with Sain. Kent seemed very bothered by this, but he was powerless to do anything to stop it.

Lyn said, "Wil's short in cash at the moment, and he's unemployed with nowhere to go. He would go home and try being a laborer, but he'd rather take a risk on us."

"Fair enough. The more troops the better when we face your grand-uncle right?"

"Yup, you're right."

Lyn subtly pushes a filled cup of blue liquid onto my lap. That sneaky girl had managed to do it without me noticing.

"Now...how about that _Lactupe_?

* * *

 **A/N: Edit on 12/10/2019**


	6. In Occupation's Shadow

**Chapter 5: In Occupation's Shadow**

 **By SodiumChloride12, derived from Fire Emblem, owned by Nintendo.**

 _ **A/N: To my original readers, yes, I did completely rewrite this chapter. To those reading this for the first time; for one, welcome, and two, disregard this message. I hope y'all enjoy the next chapter of the Son of Mind and Bane!**_

 _ **N: The people of Porrety decide to take their future upon their own hands. Far away, a slave wonders when her treatment under the Ganelon will end. Meanwhile, our heroes find themselves trapped with enemies in every front.**_

* * *

 **Porrety...**

The town's forum bustles with activity. The unforgiving morning sun bears down on these people like a hammer, but the coolness in the air helped offset the burden. A little boy stands in the crowd, but a terrible despair hangs on his shoulders…

He carries rubble from his former home, the home pillaged by the Ganelon bandits. The place still simmers with ash far away, with the villagers having spent the past few days stabilizing its blaze. However, nobody had bothered to check on lone boy who was absent during his family's demise. The poor boy was now on his own, and no one had the heart to take him in. They already had enough trouble feeding their own mouths.

The light wind did nothing to dispel the hushed whispers of the villagers.

A farmer said, "I hear we're here to elect a new mayor."

A merchant replied, "Fools! No one will volunteer! The last mayor was targeted by the bandits and killed three years ago!"

Ivalio holds the plans given to him by the tactician firmly in his hands. He gulps as he worries about who would volunteer as the new mayor and lead this new movement. He remembers the former mayor who was his closest friend, and he still remembered his youthful optimism when he was elected for the job…

His demise was a terrible one. The memory of the flames engulfing his home still haunted his dreams. The rubble from the tragedy still lies at the spot untouched, serving as a lesson to anyone who dares lead an organized resistance against the bandits.

But…despite the fear quelled up in his gut, today marks the first move to change that. Ivalio hardens his heart and addressed the crowd of 48…

"I have here comprehensive plans that can guarantee our safety from invaders. Now is the time we turn our backs on these bandits! All that we need is one of our own to step forward and lead this project!"

He hears a stir in the crowd, but no one stepped forward. He knew the reason why. No one wanted risk themselves or their families to realize some pipe dream. It had to be someone with nothing to lose.

Someone like himself.

He still remembered that day a year ago, when he returned home from that hunting trip. He discovered his young pregnant wife dead on their bed, with his house ransacked. He had lost everything, his family, his best friend, his property, and he considered running into the wilderness to end it all. But he didn't. He questioned why he never did, but he understood now. It was his destiny to lift this once proud village out of ruin.

With a commanding voice, he said, "I will lead this project. The people of Porrety, will you allow me to become your humble servant...the mayor of this town?"

The crowd went silent. This was a death sentence.

He yelled louder, "Do I NOT have the support of the people!"

A brief silence fills the air once again. Suddenly, from the back, he hears someone clapping.

It was the little boy, the boy who too had lost so much.

Everyone looks at him, the future of this town. A future where orphans roam the street asking for alms to quell their empty bellies. An orphan that could turn towards the lure of banditry in a desperate bid for fortune, feeding the never-ending cycle of misery in town.

This cannot stand. No more.

From the seed planted from the boy erupted thunderous applause. Ivalio looks at the boy and smiled.

 **…**

Later that evening, Ivalio accepted the boy into his home and adopted him. His name was Stephen.

* * *

 **Somewhere...**

Throughout the many mountains that populate the southwest border of Sacae, there dwelled a bustling bandit camp. The settlement was isolated, save for a long dirt road that traveled downhill. Crude huts and tents stand amongst the litter and squalor; resembling the Hoovervilles that dotted the United States in the 1940s. The cloudy weather and open campfires maintained a black smog that choked everyone that breathed it in. Multiple puddles of murky water laid on the dirt ground; the lack of drainage meant that any idle water had nowhere to go. Dozens of unclean, unkempt, strong men call this place home, many of them lazily loafing around. In the center of the bandit camp housed an abode slightly better than the others, it being about twice in size than the norm. A flagpole perched nearby flew the flag of the Ganelon proudly.

The tent was covered in luxurious red fabric, a product stolen from an unwilling merchant. Inside, a smooth pine table was littered with all sorts of loot, ranging from gold coins, chalices, pots, and others. Tough leather armor hangs from an armor stand, with its outer surface torn from the toils of battle. Another stand contains a long rusted sword, with the tip still stained with dried crimson. A nearby kitchen was dirty and had clearly seen better days, and a small woman hastily tried to clean dishes were her bare hands…

The sink was full of water sourced from a nearby stream, filthy with scraps of a recent meal. Her bruised fingers were scraped bare, nearly breaking the skin. On a sofa laid an older man snoozing away. Scars cover his body, with an unwashed blood stain visible on his tunic. He had huge muscles; though mostly in his upper body region. His unkempt gray hair fell onto his face like a mop, with lice dancing between his follicles. His loud snoring were annoying and disruptive, and drool drips down the side of his cheek…

The woman was a young sacaen named Maria. A long time ago she used to be a happy young tribeswoman, but now her life had been reduced to terrible servitude. She loses herself in her thoughts, like a child roaming on their own.

Her mind dances as she remembered her life before these men took her.

 _Mom and Dad...how I miss them. We used to spend so much time together. Oh...and my aunt in the village. Everyone was so nice...perfect even. Why must I be held captive by these brutes? Why me? If I only could just run away..._

The woman stops for a moment as she wiped her dirty green hair away from her face. Her crown of beauty had used to shine like the morning sun, but now it was as matte as a lump of coal.

"...Roark?"

As if to damn Maria, she looks on in terror as the man on the sofa slowly lifted himself from his resting place. He takes in a deep sigh and observes his tent. His tired eyes graze over the messy environment and then rest on Maria. He cracks a wild smile that compels her to almost scream.

 _!_

He speaks with a sinister tone, "You...who told you to stop?"

Maria's hands shake, and in her fright, she said, "Carjiga! I didn't mean to wake you! I was just trying t-"

Carjiga sneers, "Who told you talk woman? I _own_ you. You can only talk when I allow you to."

Maria takes a step back from the brute as he neared closer, and with a swift pull, he grabs Maria's small hand and lifts her into the air. His breath reeked with his nasty breath.

"Don't step out of line girl! I'll teach you a lesson!"

Maria screams as she tries to pull away, "Please! Have mercy!"

Maria tenses her body as Carjiga raised his hand to strike her, but it never came. Maria hears someone enter the tent as a warm breeze tickles the outer layer of her face…

Her gut sinks when she saw who it was. It was Bug. A man who was even viler than Carjiga. Although Carjiga (and really everyone in the Ganelon) abused their slaves, she knew Bug outright killed them on a whim. She had usually seen him angry, but this time he had a concerned expression across his face. None of it was directed towards her.

His voice resembled a toad, "Carjiga...do you have a moment?"

"Of course."

He released Maria from his grasp and made his way towards Bug. Before they closed the tent flaps, Carjiga glared at her with an expression that said: "I'll get you later." She could hear that the two were talking about something, but their voices were too muffled to make anything of it. He heard Carjiga yell angrily before she saw their silhouettes shake hands.

Afterward, Carjiga entered the tent again, and without even acknowledging her, grabs his equipment and left. Maria understood what this meant.

 _He usually does that when he's about to go on a raid. I hope he's killed...but if he is then someone else will take me. Am I never going to be free? At least I have the tent to myself for a while now. I just hope he's gone for a long time._

Maria turns back to the sink and began cleaning the dishes again. At least through work, her mind could be sent free...

* * *

 **Sometime after...at an abandoned fortress...**

 _Tactician's log, May 19th, 901._

 _Today we finished our journey through Taliver path and have finally found terrain that doesn't involve impassable mountains. Our knights are thrilled, even if Kent doesn't play the part. The morning was uneventful, and this afternoon we took shelter at a nearby abandoned fortress._

 _This fortress was constructed about two hundred years ago when an overconfident Lycian marquess attempted to expand his power north. Although initially the attempt was successful, bandits swarmed the fortress and pilfered it. Now...it's just a husk of what it-_

A hand pulls the journal away from me, and I advertently streak a large black mark across the page with my pen. I look on as our newest recruit ran away with it…

"Ooooo, a diary?" said Wil.

His voice echoes through the dark stone hallways of the fortress. Its small interior was robust, though it had clearly seen better days. The cracked walls had not been maintained in many years, and grayed frescoes decorated what I assumed to be a former throne room. Support pillars lined the outer edges of the structure, preventing the building from collapsing under its enormous weight. In the main entrance of the fortress, all the metal that used to contain the gate had been pilfered, leaving it open; along with the door that used to inhabit the east entrance…

Cockroaches fed off of stray pockets of green moss that collected around the dark hallways. This place had been devoid of human habitation for so long that those insects made it as their home.

For today, we can add ourselves to that number.

I erupt from my sitting position, "Hey wait! It's not a diary! Get back here!"

I chase him around the fortress, always seeming so close, but never getting my hands on him. He was a feisty little bastard…and I turn the corner past a corridor.

 _!_

Thunk!

Through the cover of darkness, I feel an object ram itself into my shoulder. The object was light, and it wasn't difficult to knock over.

Huh…

The object hits the ground with a thud. I stop and look down upon the object and spied some lavender hair strewn out against the stone floor.

Florina lies still as her tunic and boots were covered in silt. A small spot of blood drips from her knee, and a large bump emerges from the back of her head.

 _No no no no no. Please don't be dead. If Lyn finds out what I did to you, she'll kill me!_

I take a knee and place my finger below Florina's wrist. To my relief, a small rhythmic beat pressed against it.

 _Oh thank Elimine! She still has a pulse._

 _"Oh…my head…wha…"_

The girl stirs and then opened her eyes. Lifting her head up, her puzzled eyes meet with mine.

She asked, "M-Mark? W-Where am I? Why am I dizzy?"

 _She doesn't seem to remember what happened. A concussion? I should tell her what happened._

I immediately tink of the green nomad that was nearby. I pictured bringing a dizzy Florina to her, and she angrily slamming my head against the wall.

 _How about...not. She treats Florina like her sister. Hmmm...if she doesn't remember what happened, that means..._

I said, "You...slipped and fell on some rocks. I was walking nearby when I found you here. Are you all right?"

Florina slowly nodded her head, "Uh...y-yeah. I think. I swear I was just w-walking and...now I'm here. E-Everything is a haze."

I help Florina up from the floor and put her arm around my shoulder for support.

"Let me help you. Here, lean on my shoulder."

She replied, "Um...UUUUUUMMM."

Florina was at a loss for words, and her body tenses up. She did everything in her power to avert her eyes from me, and I wondered if anything was wrong.

 _Is she okay?_

I said calmly, "I know that your nervous around men….and we've only known each other for a few days. But you've got to trust me. I want to help you."

Florina hesitates…

Does…he really mean that?

He's so scary but…I feel like I can trust him. He's a friend of Lyn's…yeah. I can trust him…

After a moment of hesitation, she accepts.

"S-Sure."

We hobble our way to the throne room, a larger area where most of our army congregated. I sense the warmth of a fire tickle my skin, and my eyes welcome the addition of new light. Although the brightness could not sufficiently light up the darkness, I could still make out some faint runes that covered the walls. I wondered if reading those things was in the realm of possibility…

Laughter fills the air. Sain, Kent, and Lyn huddle around the fire; with Wil passing my journal around for everyone to see. Out of impulse, I silently contemplated dropping Florina there to pluck the book right off his fingers.

Cooler heads prevailed, though. Lyn catches sight of us and hurries over to take Florina off my shoulders.

She said, "Florina...your head. What happened to you?"

Lyn glares at me, "Why do I feel like you're involved?"

I presented the most stress-free smile I could muster, "Well you see...er..."

Florina said, "I was walking when I slipped on some rocks and fell on my head. I can't really remember why. I have a bad headache and everything's a little hazy. It's starting to clear up though."

"Oh no! You've got to sit down! Here take my seat."

I watch as Florina takes a seat. As she did so, her eyes widen when she remembered something.

She exclaimed, "Huey! I was looking for Huey! I need to find him!"

She tries to stand up but Lyn keeps her on the ground.

She protested, "No...you have to rest. You're hurt and I need to wrap up your leg."

Florina frowned, "Oh..."

I said, "Don't worry, I'll go find him."

Wil laughed, "You sure about that? Those pegasi want nothing to do with us men."

"I'll figure something out. Not before I get this back though…"

I snatch my journal from Wil's unexpecting hands.

I point my finger like a gun and thrust it towards the sky.

"See yah!"

I ran out of the throne room with my footsteps echoing through the corridors. Eventually, I find the main entrance and spied a white, horned horse peacefully eating grass on the pasture outside of the fortress. Its hair majestically flowed with the wind, and it gave off a slight glow that was barely visible under the setting sun.

 _Well, that was easy._

I get closer, and the animal raises its head in mild mannered way to acknowledge my presence. We look at each other as I slowly closed the distance between us. Right when I thought I could grab his reins, Huey flaps his wings and takes flight. I watchon helplessly as it confidently perched itself on top of the fortress' wall.

I pleaded, "Florina, she wants to see you. Please."

The animal stays still as if mocking my vain attempt for communication. I wonder if he had the intelligence required to understand me.

I sighed, "Come on, man. Just listen, guy to guy. I accidentally gave her a concussion earlier. I think it's best if you were with her right now."

Huey digs his hoof into the stone and jumped back onto the ground. Holding his head high, he walks into the fortress, disappearing into the darkness.

 _Glad that's done. Huh…what's that?_

I gaze over the mountains and spot something faint far away. I gasped.

Multiple unidentified persons; has to be about twenty. All brandished weapons, and they carried the same vibe that those bandits that the Ganelon had. One carried a long green banner.

 _The flag of the Ganelon...I remember someone from Porrety telling me about it. I have no doubt…_

 _I have to tell the others about this…_

* * *

I had returned to the fire and related everything that I had seen to the group. A hush of silence fills the army as we thought of the enemy's numbers.

Kent said, "There is only one thing we can do. We must make our stand here."

I replied, "But why? Wouldn't it be better if we were to just run away? There's less of us, so we can easily outmaneuver them."

Lyn disagreed, "Florina is in no position to be on the move. Besides, there's been a development."

"A development?"

I notice an unseen woman sitting next to Wil by the fire. She was a brunette with a freckled face, and had a plain aura around her. She was sitting down, but her leg was noticeably deformed.

"This is Natalie, along with Florina she is in no condition to travel."

I silently groaned.

Natalie said, "I'm sorry. You see if I could move I would. I had a childhood illness that took away much of my ability to walk."

I replied, "No...it's all right. What's your business here, anyway? The nearest village is a day's ride east."

Natalie responded, "I'm looking for my husband. He left our village to get money so I could get my leg mended, but I fear that he's gotten himself involved with some shady business."

"Shady?"

Natalie sighed.

She said, "I have a feeling he's willing to do _anything_ to get the money. There are only two ways to get paid well around here, and that's either through mercenary work or banditry. I fear it's the former."

Natalie hands me a small piece of papyrus. It was a simple drawing of a stocky man.

"Pardon me, but if you find him, can you tell him I'm waiting for him? This is what he looks like just in case you kind people run into him."

The drawing portrayed a man with red hair, a cleft chin, and a buff body. The drawing was plain, but it got the point across. I hand the parchment back.

"I'll make sure to give have an eye out."

Kent cleared his throat, "I do apologize, but we have a large advancing bandit force approaching, and they'll be here soon. What are our orders tactician...?"

* * *

Carjiga stands in front of his army. A warm breeze blew between the ranks, with the setting sun making it harder to see by the minute. He eyed at the two knights that guarded the main entrance of the fortress. Their unwavering gazes seemed oblivious to the large force before them.

 _Bug was right. They'd be right here where we want them. We can kill them and avenge our fallen._

He smiled as he fantasized about what he would do to the women.

 _There are three women in this group. Although we don't fight women, we still take pleasures in enslavement. A pegasus knight, a Lorcan halfling, and a damsel. Two beauties just waiting to serve me. Hehe. There's money to be made with the damsel as well. Our contacts in Nabata will take anybody nowadays._

He brushes his muddy boots against the grass, allowing the footwear to clean themselves in between the blades. From the crowd, he calls over their newest recruit.

"Dorcas! Front and center!"

An ax-man emerged from the horde. The army hushed as Carjiga addresses his subordinate.

"Dorcas, there's a damsel inside. Take and bring her to me. You have done little since you've joined us, and I think it's time you start earning your keep. Do you understand?

Dorcas stares at him blankly.

"Do you understand?!"

Dorcas silently nods. Now satisfied with his subordinate's will, he orders him back towards the hoard, ax in hand.

Carjiga again faced his army. Now was the time that those mercenaries faced their wrath.

He gave a vibrant speech...

"Men. Inside that fortress, contains our enemies. They defeated our comrades at Porrety. How dare they challenge our authority? How dare they shake our control of that town? How dare ANYONE, challenge the power of the Ganelon? Inside that building rests a few weaklings, waiting to be crushed by our might. Through our battle-will and our numbers, we will send a message to ANYONE that dares challenge our power again!"

Deafening applause crowds the air, riling up everyone in attendance.

He continued, "Remember the plan and our core values! Do not kill the women, but everyone else is fair game! Besides...why kill what you can sell?"

He faces the knights guarding the entrance and pointed his weapon towards them.

He ordered, "Ganelon bandits! Remember what I said! Attack! Give em' hell!"

"YEAH!"

The horde splits off, with the majority charging directly into the main entrance. Their war cries shook the very foundation of the building, and the large opening was enough to fit two men side by side. The tsunami of humanity hit the knights viscously, with the two men fighting pushing back against the hoard with all their might.

 _Those men are felling quite a lot of my troops...no matter. They will fall eventually._

A smaller flanking force attacks the east side door, being met with an unseen resistance.

 _Surely they will fall as well...oh well. This plan relies on my trump card._

A small group of handpicked men circles around the fortress and found they were looking for. A large crack embedded deep within a powdery piece of stone that made up this part of the wall. A bandit swings his ax at this portion of the wall, which instantly collapsed under the force.

Carjiga smirked.

 _They can struggle, but no one will ever beat me._

He observed his troops enter the fortress with ease. Today was to be a proud day for the Ganelon.

* * *

 **At the eastern side door...**

The fight on our end was difficult. Since Florina was out of commission, it forced me to only deploy Lyn and myself at this front. We had a huge numbers disadvantage, and it kept me on my toes with my marginal fighting ability. Yet despite that, Lyn still dispatches most of the troops on her own, with myself performing a support role...

Unfortunately, it wasn't long until I find myself easily overpowered by a single man.

 _!_

My head smashes into the stone ground and blood spills from my new wound. Everything turns into a haze, with the bandit's tough grasp crushing my skull. It sends an odd fuzzy feeling through my conciousness…and it ruins my concentration.

 _Ugh…that hurt. Where…what's going on?_

I lock eyes with my assailant, and just as he was about to make the killing blow, Lyn delivers a quick strike into the brute's chest. He kneels over dead, with his body adding to the other half-dozen nearby.

I attempt to stand, but the fog intensifies right when I press my hand against the ground. I catch myself halfway before I hit the pavement, and I suffer through what at that point was the worst headache of my life.

Lyn hurried over to me, "Mark! Speak to me!"

Her voice…it hurt to hear. In fact, any sense of sound or light felt like a needle pressing into my forehead. Although I didn't realize it then, I was suffering through the symptoms of a concussion.

"Lyn…it hurts…"

Lyn leans me against the wall, and a stream of blood from my head falls onto her shoulder. Without flinching, she immediately applies a vulnerary to it and performed some basic first aid.

A refreshing aura surrounded my head when the medicine began to do its work. However, the pain in my head did not go away.

A muffled Lyn said, "Hey...do...you...feel better...?"

I slowly shake my head, and Lyn gritted her teeth. Her voice was becoming almost intelligible now, and I misinterpreted Lyn's attempts to speak some sense into me.

She asked, "I'm...going...to...ask...you...a...question. Where are...we?"

Confidently, I said, "Dallas?"

* * *

Lyn gasps. Whatever injury Mark had would not be fixed with a vulnerary. The extent of it was beyond the means of simple medication.

Lyn watches in fear as Mark closed his eyes. She tried to wake him up, but the attempts were in vain. Tears forms around her eyes as she comes to terms with a new reality.

He…could be dead.

The tears fall onto Mark's robe, creating a dark spot upon impact. The sadness was so overwhelming that she lost touch with the surrounding battle.

…

A moment passes, and then another. Lyn almost doesn't notice the large man emerge from the corner of her eye.

"You really cared about him, huh?"

Lyn doesn't face the voice. Her gaze stayed with Mark's still body.

She replied, "He was my first friend after they killed my people. It's only natural that I'd hold him up so highly within myself. Yeah, he was a dork, annoying, and sometimes I couldn't stand being near him. But he was my friend, and he has a special place in my heart. But now he's gone."

The voice disagreed, "He isn't dead. Look at him. He's breathing, so he's only unconscious, but after a blow like that, he may recover, but never be the same. Are you willing to deal with that?"

Lyn hesitated. Was she really prepared to deal with a potentially crippled Mark? Mark could come out of this being comatose, or worse…

But…Mark was willing to risk his life for her, all so she could see her grandfather. To help her realize the dream that was reuniting with her only family. It's only fair if she be willing to support him through his wounds.

She said, "Yes...I'll do what it takes."

"Funny. That's exactly what I told my wife before I joined these men."

 _My wife?_

Lyn turns to bear witness to a burly, red-haired man. He looked oddly familiar...

"Dorcas?"

The man raised his brow, "That's odd, I don't recall giving you my name."

She shook her head, "Your wife gave me your name. She sketched a drawing of you too."

Shocked, he exclaimed, "What, is she here?!"

Lyn nods, "Yes! We're protecting her from these bandits in the throne room."

Dorcas spends a moment to mull over his options. He shrugs his shoulders…

Lyn looks on as Dorcas effortlessly lifted the unconscious tactician onto his back.

He said, "It is settled then. I will help you protect my wife. But first, let's get this boy to a safer place so he can get some sleep…"

* * *

 **A few moments later...**

I wake up in front of a dimming flame. Everything around me felt numb, and it was difficult to focus on individual sensations. I rais my head as a familiar person holds me back.

A female voice speaks to me, "Mark? Sit back. You need to rest."

"What's going on?"

"I can't answer right now...I have to help the others. Just sit tight."

For some reason, a word keeps echoing in my mind.

 _Flow. Remember the Flow._

Before I feel my consciousness leave me, I mutter one final word.

"Flow."

* * *

Lyn hold Mark tight as he tilts his head and goes out cold. His final word radiated through her mind like a bumblebee near a flower.

 _Flow? Why does that word give me de ja vu?_

She immediately remembers why.

 _Mark was going off on one of those dorky rants yesterday when we were hunting for food. I think…it was about temperature. I remember asking him why it felt hot or cold sometimes._

 _"It's because of energy flow! You see, temperature in a closed system will always want to go into equilibrium. Like when two similar objects are in contact with each other, one hot and one cold, the temperature will balance out somewhere in the middle. We can use this to explain when you're cold. When you're cold, your body heat and the cold environment will try to balance out each other, but since the world is so huge, you end up "balancing" more in line with the environment. But this can't happen if the two temperatures are in different systems. For instance, if it was cold out, and you lit up a fire inside a closed room, the fire would heat the room, unless you opened the doors in which case energy will flow between the world and the room, making temperature change everywhere besides directly next to the flame negligible. Here's an interesting tidbit. When you open the doors, the heated smoke will flow out through the entrance as it is replaced with the outside clean, cold air."_

Lyn had actually nearly dozed off when she heard that. The tactician had that effect on people. But one detail sticks out to her.

 _When you open the doors, the heated smoke will actually flow out through the entrance as it is replaced with the outside clean, cold air._

There were three large openings that would allow for energy flow. If they could light a large enough fire, they could cover their enemy with thick smoke and kill some with asphyxiation.

 _This could work..._

She looks over at Wil, who had a bloody bandage over his left arm. She told him the plan, and they got to work...

* * *

Carjiga joined the rest of his troop as they made the final push towards the throne room. Everything had been going according to plan. Thanks to the unexpected additional front, he forced the enemy into a small, isolated location. Victory was inevitable now.

Hehehe…I win. I always win…

Suddenly, a panic erupts through the crowded corridors. Carjiga feels a burning sensation build in his throat as a thick pillar of smoke flooded the tight space. He quickly began to make for the exit, but there was no point. The entire bandit column deteriorated into a frenzy...

Desperate for their lives, the men in the front turned back and rammed into their own men. Blinded and gasping for air, many of the men trampled over their own comrades as the fought amongst each other for survival. Carjiga fell over as a desperate man kicked him down into the floor, and a body fell over him. His muffled scream joined a chorus of agony.

"No...not me!"

Carjiga lived his entire life by the blade and fully intended to die by it. Ultimately, he was robbed of this fate. He died choking to his own bodily fluids, under a pile of his own men.

* * *

 **A short moment later...**

Wil, Sain, and Lyn looks over the many bodies that littered the floor. Not one man caught between halls had survived.

Lyn gags from the sight. This method of death was efficient, too efficient. She excuses herself as Wil and Sain began removing the bodies from the fortress. Even these people deserve a proper burial.

…

Outside, Kent cautiously observed a handful of Ganelon bandits escape into the mountains. A tight noose fixates itself within his gut, and he knew this wasn't over.

 _As long there still stands people to raise their banner, they will return. They always do._

* * *

 **That night...**

Finally, after the chaos of battle, Dorcas and Natalie find themselves alone in an isolated corner of the fortress. Moths and the occasional grasshopper were their only witness, but the couple stayed fixated on one another.

Dorcas had multiple dried wounds around his body, and his sore body aches as he firmly held onto his beloved's right hand. They reciprocated each other's smiles as a nearby window illuminated their faces with moonlight. A little more soreness was worth it for this.

Calmly, Dorcas said, "Doesn't this feel familiar?"

Natalie nodded her head, "Yes...the time when we first met."

It was a moment that was still fresh on their minds. It felt like it was only yesterday...

 _A neighbor was throwing a party in the village. He congregated all the villagers in and around his house, and they celebrated the naming of their child. Dorcas and some of his friends had just arrived when he realized he left his gift back at his home..._

 _He excuses himself from the gathering and quickly made his way through the village, block by block. Just as he was about to turn the corner to his home, he noticed someone sitting alone by the village's walls. Through the dim moonlight, he made out the silhouette of a girl._

 _He got closer, and he froze when he got a better view. Her long brown hair waved with the wind, like a harp plucking a harmony into his soul. Her freckled face shone with the brilliance of a star, and he was unlike anyone he's ever seen._

 _Through the quieted sounds of party music, he could hear faint sobbing whispers. Dorcas pondered why a girl so perfect would cry about anything._

 _He took a step closer; a loud snap of an unseen twig caused the two to meet eyes. Dorcas felt his gut sink as he was unsure of what to do next..._

Dorcas said, "You were so shy Natalie. I was too. My heart flipped when I caught sight of you."

Natalie chuckles, "Stop it...I thought you were one of the village guards..."

Natalie slips her left hand around his shoulder and keeps her right with Dorcas' respective hand.

"Besides, it's what you did next that made me fall for you." she said.

Natalie hums a familiar tune as Dorcas used his strength to offset the weight going into his wife's leg. They began dancing slowly through the empty corridors of the fortress...

 _Natalie said, "There's a party going on and I can't dance. Every time I've tried, I put myself in danger of falling."_

 _Dorcas looks upon Natalie's leg. Although it looked fine, he knew it was scarred from her childhood polio. It damned Natalie to a lifetime without dancing._

 _Suddenly, Dorcas had an idea._

 _Dorcas extends his hand towards Natalie, "Dance with me."_

 _"D-Dance? I can't in front of all those people! I'll embarrass myself and you!"_

 _Dorcas disagrees, "Not there...we can dance here."_

 _"But I can't dance...this leg won't let me put much weight on it."_

 _Natalie takes one look at his large muscles. Something clicks within her._

 _"You don't mean..."_

 _Dorcas smiles, "I do. My hard work in the fields has awarded me much strength."_

 _Dorcas took Natalie's hand and she felt all the weight on her lame leg lessen. She gazes into Dorcas' eyes as they danced to the distant music..._

* * *

In a nearby storage closet, Mark was sitting down on a makeshift bed. There was no sort of bedding; the only thing separating his body from the stone floor were three blankets and a pillow. The room was pitch dark, with considerable effort being taken to sound-proof the room. Multiple shreds of cloth were lined all throughout the closet door to keep out any sound and light. Lyn was sitting nearby on a stool, with her head full of worry.

 _Mark suffered a concussion, and he can't even hear or see anything now without feeling any pain. If this keeps up, it will only get worse._

Mark looks blindly out into space, oblivious to his surroundings. His body was full of bruises and bandages, but he didn't seem to notice. His tattered green robe holds still against his body, and after several minutes, he gently tilts his head towards Lyn.

He asked with a puzzled look, "Hey...where am I?"

Lyn bites her lip. Although she had expected this, the fact he had lost part of his memory again unsettles her. Regardless, she keeps her composure.

She said, "We're near the south-western border of Sacae. We fought a battle against some bandits when you got hit in the head. It was pretty bad."

Lyn could see that Mark's mental gearing was beginning to click. Like he had finally found his bearings.

He asked, "Did we win?"

Lyn holds in a sting of disappointment.

 _He doesn't remember that either?_

"Yes."

Mark scratches his chin, "So...what does that mean?"

Lyn sighed, "It means that we'll be able to cross into Lycia in a few days. We're one step closer to seeing my grandfather."

Mark's face lit up as he heard those words. He shoots up from his bed and began celebrating with her. Through the ruckus, Lyn feels a searing pit of guilt develop within her.

"Mark...are you alright?"

Unfazed, he replied, "Why wouldn't I be? Come on! Nothing gets me more pumped than knowing you're going to be reunited with your family! This is great! I'm so happy for you!"

"…"

"Hey…why does my head hurt so much?"

Lyn gasps, and the pit in her stomach gets even deeper.

 _Has he forgotten about the injury already?! It's only been a few seconds..._

She leans back against her seat. An unhealthy cocktail of regret, guilt, and uncertainty toys with the inner workings of her heart.

 _The price that others have to pay...is this even worth it? I want to see my grandfather, but this...is this too much?_

Mark went silent and slumped back into his bed. His bright face dims to one of an oblivious child. He leans against the wall and looked out into space again.

After several minutes, he said, "Hey...where am I?"

Lyn silently curses to herself as Mark asked the same sequence of questions again. Despite the inconvenience, she couldn't find it in herself to leave.

 _This is the least I can do for him at least._

Minutes quickly turned into an hour. After some time, Mark's dilated eyes closed, and he fell onto his soft pillow. She smiled as he observed him patiently sleep.

 _Oh Mark I'm so sorry. But…at least now I know how much you truly care for me._

 _…_

 _Mark…_

* * *

 **A/N: I like this new edit way better than my old chapter.**

 **Edited: 12/11/2019**


	7. Beyond the Borders

**Chapter 6: Beyond the Borders**

 **by SodiumChloride12, derived from Fire Emblem content, owned by Nintendo.**

 ** _A/N: My publishing schedule will be a bit inconsistent as I return to college this Tuesday. I'll aim for one new chapter a week. Enjoy and make sure to review!_**

 ** _P/N: Y'all I'm really sorry. I tried my best to edit this…but this chapter is fundamentally badly written. Issues like these will continue all the way up to the 12th chapter…so please bear with me. It really does get better than this…I promise. One of these days I'm likely going to have to redo this whole things._**

 ** _Honestly, if your binging through this you can just go ahead and skip this chapter if you want to. The next chapter is way better._**

 _ **N: The rest of the Ganelon receive the news of the defeat. Enraged, they vow to make their revenge. Meanwhile, Lyn's Legion find some new friends, one of whom might awaken a new power from within our tactician.**_

* * *

 **At the Ganelon bandit camp...**

Bug angrily slams his fist on the table, cracking the oak wood under his heavy force. He holds back the urge to cut down the messengers where they stood.

He screamed, "What?!"

They were inside his tent, where Bug sits on a rickety chair. In front of him stood the three survivors from the failed attack.

Three out of many more. Bug realizes his misstep in allowing Carjiga to march off with most of the camp. He turns to the three soldiers and berates them for their cowardice.

"You imbeciles! There were twenty of you against a force of five! How could you idiots lose…and why did you abandon your comrades? I should crucify you three on this mountain!"

Crucifixion was the worst punishment doled out by the Ganelon. The victims were stripped of their clothing and nailed onto a plank of wood resembling a "T". Besides the humiliation, they would suffer an excruciatingly painful, slow death. It was the worst possible way to go.

The three survivors fall onto their knees, "No! Please! Have mercy! One of our men betrayed us, and he joined their group. But all is not lost! We know where they're going! Allow us to finish the job there!"

Bug pauses and considers their proposition. Surely, these men would be much more useful alive. However, these three could not possibly attack these mercenaries alone.

Bug smiles, with his visible yellow teeth sending a chill down his subordinates' spines.

He said, "You fools! You honestly don't expect to take them on by yourselves do you?"

One survivor responded, "N-No my captain. Please forgive our incompetence."

Bug orders the men to rise from the floor. His mind was made up.

He said, "We will attack with everything we have left. Tell the rest of the camp that we will leave immediately."

One man asks, "But what of the slaves? Surely we can't leave them here alone."

Bug snarls, "I know that! We will leave two men behind. Now go, I want everyone at the camp's gate by the end of the hour."

The men salute and quickly vacated the premises. Bug reciprocated in kind and left to settle some business.

…

"Whew…he's gone…"

Inside of the tent stood Maria, who was quietly sweeping up the dirty abode. She had heard the entire thing…and struggles to hold back her excitement.

 _This could be my chance! We could escape!_

That all depended if the mercenaries won their battle. Otherwise, even if they escaped, they would just come back and capture them. Their freedom depended on the mysterious mercenaries that had been giving the Ganelon so much trouble…

* * *

 **Near the Bern/Sacae Border...**

Somebody, somewhere near Lyn's Legion is regretting every decision they made up to this point. Was he in danger? No. But…was he in pain? Definitely.

Small amounts of blood flow out of his strained eardrums, and he flinches in anticipation of the hellspawn he was entrusted with…

He had accepted a job to escort a "respectful", "quiet", and "helpless" cleric girl through the lawless frontiers of Sacae. This job was supposed to be easy money. In truth, this was likely the hardest gold he's ever made.

This pink-haired cleric had made it her mission to make his life a living hell. She gives a deafening screech.

"EEEEEEEEEERRRRRRKKKKKKYYYYY!"

Erk feels an overwhelming sense of dread fill his body. One more day of this…and he was sure he'd go insane.

* * *

Nearby…

The bright sunlight acted like needles pressing against my head. It was painful while also killing most of my concentration…and I didn't know what was worse. This…or the knife puncturing my eardrums anytime sound blesses my being…

The concussion I suffered quickly turned into a nuisance. Although vulneraries can work wonders with serious injuries like broken arms, ribs, and legs, they're virtually useless against traumatic brain injuries. Despite that, save for some painful sensitivity to light and sound, after a few days of rest, I felt ready to take on my tactician duties once more…

Having left the fortress, we made our way through the rest of Taliver pass, and now we're near some woodlands by the Bern border. About 5 miles from it, and another 30 until we reach its Lycian counterpart. When we cross from the comparatively lawless Sacea into the military powerhouse of Bern, we will FINALLY, be safe from these constant bandit raids. And as a cherry on top, Sain even mentioned a nice inn on the Lycian side we can rest at. I can already think about the warm, dark room already!

We take a break near some woodlands, and the foliage kept out the hot sun. I take a seat on a mossy rock, and I'm joined by two others.

Florina and Lyn were talking about their younger years when they decided to flatter me with some small talk. The duo admittingly look beautiful under the Sacaen sun, but unfortunately I wasn't able to appreciate the sight for very long. Within seconds, the sight is crowded out with translucent and painful orbs of light.

 _!_

"Ugh…"

Lyn shifts her attention towards my head and lays her hand over it. She expresses concern when she sensed the heat press up against it.

She said, "By the Creator…Mark you're burning up. Have your migraines been getting worse?"

I nodded weakly, "Yeah they have. They've already been annoying but now it's almost unbearable. I…I think I need a while to sit down…"

Lyn sighs and poured some cold water onto a rag. She ties the cloth around my head and beckons me to lie down.

She said, "Lie down for a while Mark. Once we get to the border, I'll arrange for a nice dark room for you to sleep in. Until then, I'm afraid you must bear with it…"

I replied, "Of course….but it doesn't matter. As long as you need me, I'll be there. I don't care if I have to fight through a dislocated shoulder or suffer through the burden of a migraine. Say the word…and I'll proudly lead our forces to victory."

I couldn't see it because of my condition, but Lyn blushes for a split second.

She said, "Mark…I…I don't know what to say…"

"…"

I shift my attention over to Florina, who had a large bandage covering her head. She was in much better spirits than myself, which was a good sign.

I asked, "How about you Florina? How are you feeling?"

She smiles meekly, "B-Better. E-Everything's cleared up and I t-think I can f-fight again. I t-think your injury was a lot w-worse."

I breathe a sigh of relief.

 _Good. I'm glad I didn't hurt her too badly._

Suddenly, I hear some horrific screeching, louder and more soul-wrenching then anything I've heard. I swallow the auditory pill of pain and glance over at Kent, who was standing nearby.

I ordered, "Tell the legion to exercise alertness."

"Of course."

Lyn said, "What do you think is going on?"

I replied, "I don't know…but it looks like I must cut this break short."

"You really don't, Kent and I can handle anything coming our way for today. You need to rest."

I disagree, "No. If I do that, then I'll just slow you guys down. There isn't enough of us for me to be okay with that."

I get up under my own power and make sure my dagger was still fixated onto my belt. Fortunately, it was…

Okay…now where did that scream come from…

Thankfully, I didn't have to wait long to find the answer to that question. Soon enough Sain reported that he had spotted some bandits.

 _Well…back to work…_

I rush over to his vantage point, and as I feared, there were some enemies past the woods and on our flanks. These ruffians were midway through some flanking maneuver when our knight spotted him. Although I only saw 3 bandits, I knew there were probably some reinforcements over the hills.

 _!_

I struggle to put my head together as a shock of pain oscillates through my skull. These next few moments will be crucial for us, yet despite that, I had to make do with a subpar mind. I wince and wait for this episode to pass…

Sain puts his hand on my shoulder, "Mark, are you going to be able to do this?"

I paused and let the sensation flow away. At least for now, my decision-making ability had returned.

"Yeah, but I'm afraid I'm not going to perform like I used to."

The green knight pats me on the back. His leather gloves feel like a cushion of air.

He said, "Don't worry. That's why we're here. Lean on us when you're not strong."

I smile and gave him a thumbs up, "Thank you Sain, I'll make sure to."

…

Amid the tension, their leader Bug approaches us. Far enough for us to be out of our grasp, but close enough to berate us with his taunts.

He scowled, "Heh heh heh. Don't think you're getting away so easily. If you leave alive, everyone will think the Ganelon Bandits have gone soft!"

Lyn raises her voice, "So? We don't care about your lousy reputations! We must get to Lycia! If you know what's good for your health, you'll stand aside!"

Bug laughed, "You'll eat your words missis! Let's get em lads! And no holding back for the women! Wipe em' out!"

The slimy little bastard then fell back into the rear of his forces.

I rally my troops around me, and before I did anything else, Florina volunteers to do some scouting.

I asked, "Are you sure you're up for this?"

She nodded, "Y-Yes Mark. I-I'm a proud pegasus knight of Illia!"

I look on as she takes off with Huey. With her gone, I address my troops…

I said, "All right y'all, I'm not so sure how many troops they have so we need to stick together and fight defensively."

Wil asked, "And what of the ax-man north of us?"

"If he engages, strike him down. Otherwise, stand fast. For all we know, he might bait us into an ambush."

Far away, I hear the flaps of a returning Florina, and she landed with much more grace than at Porrety.

"I-I have some news, Mister Mark!"

Lyn exclaimed, "Nice job Florina!"

She said, "Y-Yes. There's one bandit alone north of us. An a-archer and a swordsman past the w-woods, and a-a ax-man, a-archer, and swordsman near the mountain. The c-commander is behind all of them."

"A-Also, there seems to be two passerby's trapped in between us and the first a-archer."

I counted those numbers. Seven of us versus seven of them. Not to mention the wildcard of those people past the woods. They're probably innocent passerby's caught up in this attack, and knowing our luck these past few weeks, they might be willing to help us. A nine versus seven matchup would be much more preferable. In hindsight, I'll probably be able to scheme this attack to be much more aggressive than initially planned. Those bandits don't stand a chance!

 _!_

Another wave of pain takes hold of me…

 _Baby steps Mark…baby steps…_

First things first, we had to establish contact with those civilians.

"Dorcas, I want you to solo with that exposed bandit on our flank. Sain, keep that archer off Florina. Kent, keep that mountaineer busy. Everyone else follows me, we're going for a chat."

Everyone nods in agreement, but before we could go, I hear a screech past the woods. Considering how displeasing it sounded, it looked like they needed our help…

* * *

"EEEEEEEEEEEEK! EEEEERRRRK PROTECT ME!" screamed Serra.

Erk confronts the assailant, an archer. The archer's gaze frightens him, but as he takes out his tome to call upon magical fire, an arrow embedded itself into his left thigh.

He yelled, "Ah!"

The injury punctures an artery, and the ground quickly turned red with his own blood. He stumbles over in shock…

"Erk fight back!"

 _Thanks for your concern, Serra..._

By instinct, he clutches his tome and recites some words in a language predating the Scouring. The palm of his hand turns red hot, spewing fire unto the archer. It drenches the area in a cloud of thick smoke.

 _Got him._

 _Oh no…_

A burning man erupts from the smoke, with red flame flittering around his body. Burns cover his entire body, and his tunic had completely disappeared. Half of scoured face had melted off. Despite his wounds, Erk could see the ferocity in his eyes. His blood-curling scream was enough to confirm that.

The archer pulls back a new arrow and released it. Erk looks at the sharp object that was about to end him, and for the first time in his life, he felt helpless. The countless hours of studying, honing his craft, and tutelage under his mentor had been for naught. A simple arrow to undo all. He closes his eyes to await the inevitable.

 _At least I won't have to deal with Serra anymore._

 _…_

But he feels nothing. He opens his eyes to see the archer, dead with an arrow pinning him to the tree. A strong hand pulls out the arrow from his left thigh, along with an accompanying comfort sensation surrounding his wound.

 _Serra's staff...she's healing me?_

That cleric was helping him for once. He gets up to see the green robes of his savior. He extends his hand.

"Hello, my name is Mark, pleased to make your acquaintance."

* * *

We saved that mage just in the lick of time! But…it was the sight of magic that amazed the most.

Despite a short informational brief about magic from Erk, I still can't wrap my head around it. How does magic work? What was that chant? This world seems to hold endless possibilities.

I'll have to look this over later…

After that episode, I sent everyone on separate assignments, with Serra and Erk joining Lyn and myself towards a push for Bug. After a few isolated battles later, a lone swordsman stands between him and us.

"You two stay behind me and Lyn, we don't need you nearly passing out again Erk."

Erk flips to a new page on his tomb, "Keep him busy so I can land a hit on him, I will show you the true power of magic."

My eyes meet with Lyn's. We knew what we had to do.

We corner the bandit by a tree. In desperation, he flings himself at Lyn, unexpectedly thrusting his sword into her hip…

"Lyn!"

"I-I'm okay!"

Lyn immediately falls over but thrusts her Mani Katti into his right arm, puncturing an artery, and spilling blood everywhere. But the bandit simply refuses to go down, and he raises his sword to deliver yet another painful…

"Ack!"

The bandit screams in pain, but he quiets down as his vocal cords burnt to a crisp. He falls onto the floor and did not get back up. Looking over my shoulder, I notice Erk had a pair of glowing eyes. Although his body may be weak, off of sheer strength he might be the strongest of us all.

Serra kindly (and very loudly) volunteers to mend Lyn's wound. Her healing staff glows as the open tissue closed up, and Lyn winces from the treatment.

"T-Thank you kind cleric."

Serra piped, "I'll give that to you free of charge."

 _I have a feeling those were supposed to be free anyway..._

The last bandit in our way was the Bug waiting to be squashed…

Bug was a man who surpassed Carjica in strength, and it was clear in his towering physique. His unkempt gray hair flows in the wind, and the many scars that covered his body shows to me he is a veteran of many raids. Regardless of his strength, it was his intelligence, or rather lack thereof, that will be his downfall.

I had Lyn strike first, and she delivers a blow to his stomach, but Bug didn't so much as flinch at it. He takes his steel ax and attempted to return the favor, but although he missed, the force of the hit shakes the ground with such force that she fell onto the ground.

"Lyn!"

Bug tries to remove his weapon from the dirt, but before he could, I lower my shoulder for a pitiful attempt of a tackle. It ended up dislocating my shoulder, and Bug lifts me up with one arm to cast me aside, knocking the wind out of me. In hindsight, a 150lb man trying to tackle someone who looked 260 was not a good idea…

Bug looks damn near invincible. After writhing in pain, I open my eyes and get blinded by the rising sun behind Bug.

"Ah!"

The pain was immense, and every sense I experienced doubles in intensity. I started to feel faint and crumble onto the ground.

"Someone help him! He's hurt!"

Was that…Lyn…?

…

* * *

Erk watches as Lyn and Serra immediately made for Mark's immobile body.

"The tactician is down!" exclaimed Erk.

Erk had just seen the tactician crumple onto the floor. This man had just saved his life, and now he's on the verge of losing his own. With the tactician's pitiful tackle attempt still fresh in his mind...he knew he had to do something. He flips over to a new page on his fire tome and starts chanting.

 _Pulvis ex igni summam potestatem ades!_

Erk feels magical energy course through his body as flame erupts from his palm. Bug's looming presence is destroyed as the brute falls onto the grounding, writhing in the same way as the tactician…

He lifts himself from the ground, his skin baked, and his face nearly unrecognizable.

"YOU! I WILL CRUSH YOUR BONES!"

"EEEK! ERK WATCH OUT!"

Erk had just gotten out of his stance when he sees a very pissed off, deformed man come charging at him.

 _Crap! I don't have enough time to dodge!_

"Get back here! I'll make you pay what you did to him!"

Lyn charged towards Bug, Mani Katti in hand. Bug was so preoccupied with Erk that he didn't see the nomadic tribeswoman going for his left kneecap.

Snap!

Bug fell over as his knee gave in to the divine blade. Covered in blood, Bug tried crawling his way to Erk.

"I WILL SHOW YOU WHY THEY FEAR THE GANELON!"

"Go, Erk! Bug's weak to magic! Finish him off!" exclaimed Lyn.

Erk flipped into the next page of his tome and focused all his energies into this next blow. Bug saw as the mage he tried so hard to kill began developing a ferocious fireball. Bug felt a searing heat pass through him, and in his last moment, he felt something not felt since his early experiences with his father.

 _Fear? What? I'm scared...will the Ganelon...really end with me?_

Littered over the battlefield were the remains of the last six members of the Ganelon and the black, charred skeleton of what used to be Bug the bandit.

* * *

 **Later...**

I awoke to an unfamiliar voice. Not the voice of a comforting nomad girl that I've known for a while now, but of someone much different. Someone with pink hair.

"You're awake tactician."

I was in a dark, small furnished wooden room. In front of the comfortable bed that I was in, there was a small table with medical gear like a staff, a bucket of warm water, and bandages. The person attending me wasn't Lyn, but Serra, the cleric girl we met earlier with Erk.

I try getting up, but I'm hit with an immediate, brutal headache.

"Ack!"

Serra lays me back down, "Sit back." she whispered. "I've got something to help you with that."

She went over to the table and took out a vial with a ruby liquid. The liquid almost seemed to move and glow within the glass.

"Take this. My staff can't heal brain injuries, but this can."

She hands me the vial, which I then emptied into my throat.

I responded, "I hope you didn't poison me."

She chuckles, "Why would I want to poison the man that rescued us? This is the most I can do for you, besides, Lyn and the others have been worried sick."

My thoughts immediately went towards the woman that lost her footing in that fight.

"Where's Lyn?" I asked.

"They're all downstairs; we're in an inn. Lyn was waiting for you to wake up. She should come back soon though. She's getting some water for you…"

I hear the auburn door creak open, and I see a familiar flash of green.

Lyn said, "Can I come in? Are you feeling okay, Mark?"

The medicine worked fast, healing damaged tissue in my brain. My senses clear up to where the light coming in from the door no longer inflicted pain.

I replied, "Yes, thanks to Serra, I feel a lot better now! She's the real deal!"

Serra's eyes lit up, "DO YOU GUYS HEAR THAT. I'M THE REAL DEAL! ERKY! AT LEAST SOMEONE APPRECIATES ME!"

I...regret saying that.

 _Mental note. Don't compliment the cleric. Ever._

Erk came into the room. "What did you say about me woman?"

Serra pointed her staff towards me, "I healed this kind man and he dropped to the floor to say thank you!"

 _Uh...what?_

"You on the other hand, fail to recognize my talents!"

Erk scoffed, "I probably would if you weren't so conceited! They probably wouldn't last a week with you!"

"A week! Well, you better prepare yourself, because we're accompanying Lady Lyn in her journey to meet her grandfather!"

Erk's eyes widened in shock, "Wha-"

"It's final!"

"But what about going back home?"

"That can wait, I'm sure Marquess Ostia will understand. Besides...heh heh. It never hurts to have someone powerful in your debt."

Erk stormed out of the room, probably to go complain to Wil or anyone that would listen.

Serra smiled, "Well if you feel better, Mark, I'll leave you two in here. I've got a green knight waiting to flatter my greatness."

She then left the room. Leaving Lyn and me speechless.

"She's acting like we didn't just hear all of that," I told Lyn, laughing.

"Well, we can use all the help we can get. Who knows if we'll run into something like yesterday again."

Lyn hands me a glass of water. The clear beverage was refreshing, compared to the metallic taste of the medication.

"So...you've been waiting all this time for me to wake up?"

"You haven't been out for all that long, only for a couple of hours."

Lyn leans back against the seat she was sitting on, and a brief silence filled the air. I couldn't help but feel I was home.

She broke the silence, "Besides, I couldn't sit down with the others when I knew my-, our tactician was hurting."

"W-Well, I really appreciate it L-Lyn."

"Y-Yeah."

Something was off about her. Usually, she was a lot more confident talking to me. I looked down on the robes I wore, they were the same ones I've worn since day one. A lot had changed since then.

I asked, "How long have we known each other?"

"A little less than a month."

"It's only been that long? It's only been a month but I already feel like you're one of my closest friends."

Lyn smiles, "As do I."

I get up from my bed, and I was careful getting off so I wouldn't slip like last time. I look over at my friend, whose green eyes were fading with the setting sun.

She said, "Mark...I was really worried that you bit the dust at that fortress the other day."

I think back when everything was hazy. When I first suffered my concussion under the clutches of that bandit.

"For a moment I thought I did. I barely remember anything. I never felt more vulnerable in my life."

Lyn said with a serious tone, "You need to stop putting yourself in unnecessary danger. You're a tactician, not a swordsman like me. Don't ever forget that. I get that you always deal with calculated risk, but you need to hold yourself more highly. I'm prohibiting you from hand-to-hand combat. Unless you can figure out how to fight ranged, I'm afraid you must stay in the rear-guard."

I nodded, "Alright. I'll refrain from doing that. Just know that I won't hesitate to save your life."

She rolled her eyes, "Awfully chivalrous aren't you? Last time I checked it was me doing all the saving."

I playfully punched her shoulder, "Do I have to start counting?"

She mischievously balls up her fist and acts like she was about to reciprocate the favor.

"If you don't stop, you'll be counting stars."

I raise my hands defensively, "How about we go downstairs and see our friends? I'm just dying to talk with them."

She agreed, "Let's."

We go downstairs to the cheers of our friends. For the first time all day, I finally laid back to relax and enjoy time with the ones I cherish most.

* * *

 **Camp Ganelon...**

They threw Maria onto the ground as unfamiliar faces began taking Carjiga's possessions. Outside the tent, she hears the screams of Ganelon bandits and their slaves.

A man bursts through the tent flap, he had the tattoos of the Ganelon all through his body.

He exclaimed, "What the hell are you doing in Carjiga's house?! I'll sh-"

The man stopped talking when a blade behind him pierced through his chest. His throat gurgles with blood as he fell onto the ground.

One man approaches Maria, grabbing her by the chin.

By his appearance, he was obviously a bandit, and he stank with dried blood and must. But it was the tattoo on his right arm that frightened her the most. A tattoo of a green and red dragon.

The mark of the Taliver.

The man snarled, "Tell me, did you know that the Ganelon foolishly allowed most of their men to die under the sword of some girl?"

Maria felt her stomach sink with anxiety, and she squeaked, "N-No sir. They didn't t-tell me anything. P-Please spare me!"

The man laughs and threw Maria onto the ground. She fell on her elbows, covering them with a dark bruise.

The bandit takes his sword and cut open the tent flaps of Carjiga's tent.

Triumphantly, he exclaimed, "Hahahaha! These mountains are owned by us! Let it be known to everyone, that Camp Ganelon is under new management! Take everything you want men! We do as we please! We are the Taliver bandits!"

Maria scampers off to a dark corner in the kitchen. She prayed to her gods for her life.

Thick smoke covers the air. The ground shook as the men destroyed everything that stood.

* * *

 **Midnight...**

I tried going to sleep like the others, but couldn't. That concept about magic was just too interesting for me to sleep on. I walk outside with the red book we had gotten in Bulgar, as it seemed similar to the tomb Erk used earlier. I wandered out until I ran into a peaceful stream that was flowing serenely. It soon became clear that I wasn't the only one that wanted some time alone.

"Erk? What are you doing here?"

Erk turned around and faced me, surprised. The waxing moon behind made his face visible. "When you have to babysit Serra, sometimes you need some time to think on your own. What are you doing here? Something keeping you up at night?"

I nod my head and showed him my book, "It's about magic, I-I couldn't sleep on it without learning more about it. I study best when I'm around nature. Do you know anything about this?"

Erk borrowed it from me, and he looks over the weird lettering on its cover.

He said, "This is a fire tome, if you say the correct chant, you'd be able to conjure up fire."

I asked, "So could I use magic?"

Erk shook his head, "I doubt it, the magically gifted are born with the talent. Not to mention all the training it would take to even get a spark out of this. Do you know if you can use it?"

I shrugged my shoulders, "I'm not sure. When I first met Lyn, I had amnesia."

Erk rests his finger underneath his chin, "It's worth giving a shot, all you have to do is turn to the first page and read out this chant." He turned to the first page to reveal a note that Anna had apparently placed herself, it said: _Pulvis ex igni summam potestatem ades_. "Face your palm towards that stream over there."

I flip to the first page of the tome and did as he said.

" _Pulvis ex igni summam potestatem ades_."

I closed my eyes and waited for something to happen...but nothing did.

I shook my head disappointingly, "I guess I'm not cut out for this."

"Well, that's not how you pronounce it. The V is pronounced like a W."

I flip over to the first page and repeated the line again. I closed my eyes and waited for something to happen, this time with the right pronunciation.

" _Pulvis ex igni summam potestatem ades_."

For a brief moment, nothing happened.

"Well...I guess you don-"

Suddenly, I feel a burning sensation journey up my arm. The energy came up fast, nearly forcing my fingers open. A small stream of purple fire erupted from my palm, causing a copious amount of water vapor to fill the air as the flame hit the water. I look over at Erk, whose eyeballs had nearly popped out of his head. Purple embers littered the area in front of me.

"Oh my. You do have it after all."

* * *

 _ **A/N: Bonus points if you can find out what real-world language they're speaking. Edited 4/6/2019**_


	8. Blood of Pride

**Chapter 7: Blood of Pride**

 **By SodiumChloride12, from _Fire Emblem,_ owned by Nintendo.**

 **A/N: Alright, this is my last addendum; in case y'all haven't figured yet I've been writing these about a year after having initially written these. This story is not a power fantasy, although the tactician will have some good strength at first. After Chapter 12 he's going to lose a lot of it. It's my belief that people only grow when we struggle, and you can't struggle when you're basically God.**

 **N: Unsettling dreams and memories continue to haunt Mark. It's gotten to the point that he regularly loses sleep. Our heroes finally leave Sacae and find themselves in Araphen, the second biggest city in Lycia. Here, looking for aid, they find themselves in an unlikely battlefield _._**

* * *

 _"Arise my child."_

 _I wake up to a calm, yet unsettling voice. His voice echoes throughout the room like an elastic ball, and my flat back feels wet on the ground._

 _Is this…a wet sensation? Was I…in a pool of water? No...the liquid's too amorphous to be water…_

 _A_ _lthough my eyes were open, everything was dark. The silence was deafening, and it feels like I'm alone until a_ _cold, clammy arm grabs me by the wrist. It pulls me out from the pool of mysterious liquid, and my bare feet shiver against the frigid cobblestone that was the floor._

 _"You. Help him to his chamber. We will find out tomorrow if he's a failure like his brother. Or rather, if my efforts have finally created my greatest being yet."_

 _Another voice, lacking emotion, started pulling me away…_

 _"As you wish milord, what will you call him?"_

 _The voice took a minute to ponder the question, though I couldn't help but think he already knew the answer._

 _"His name will be Azazel."_

* * *

 **On a road outside of the city of Araphen...**

Azazel. What a strange name...but that voice was stranger still. I couldn't help but feel its sinister intentions. Wanting...for absolute power. The thought unsettles me…

""Hm? Mark, your face looks pale."

I look over at my newfound friend, the mage Erk. We had been talking a lot lately; it's refreshing to speak with a scholarly type once in a while.

He asked, "You seem troubled. Perhaps that tonic that Serra made was ineffective?"

I shake my head. In truth, that tonic did wonders to my overall focus and quality of life. My sensitivity to light had mostly gone away, and although I still had migraines now and then, they were of much less severity and frequency. Migraines have a tendency to get phased out as I leave my teenaged years, so I should be fine long term.

I said, "No, I had an unsettling dream last night...I'm good."

"Just making sure...also don't forget about tonight."

After Erk and I had discovered my affinity for magic, we agreed to meet up every night to harness my newfound power. For about a week since we arrived at Lycia, we've snuck out into fields, rivers, or really anything that could handle my raw, if unwieldy magic.

 _The number of times I've burnt myself… is too much to count._

I said, "Well, we're an hour from Araphen…Kent says it's the second biggest city in Lycia. He mentioned there's an off-chance that the marquess might be sympathetic towards our cause."

He replied, "Any help against Lundgren would do wonders for us. Not to mention making it a lot easier to keep Serra alive."

"Speaking of the devil, where is she right now?"

Erk points towards the end of our line; I saw a struggling cleric trying her best to climb onto Huey much to Florina's discomfort.

She said, "Hey! Give me a ride on your back! I'm tired of walking!"

Erk rolls his eyes, and begrudgingly excuses himself.

He said, "Ugh. She's trying to ride Huey again. I'll be back later. I've got to make sure she doesn't kill herself."

"Alright."

Erk left to assist Serra, and while I was alone, I thought about my dreams. The more and more I thought about them, the more worried I get about my past.

Who am I? Am I…tied to something evil? Will it hurt me…or even worse my friends?

Only time will tell. I can only hope that everything works out.

* * *

I said, "Welcome to the great city of Araphen."

Sain replied, "Well, second greatest, the first being Caelin."

Serra rolled her eyes, "We all know the greatest city is Ostia."

Erk chimed, "I know of a city in my home country that is much bigger than this."

It seemed everyone had a differing opinion. How quaint.

We had arrived outside the great gate of the walls of Araphen, in an open field by the road. Kent delivers a loud whistle to garner the attention of the city guards, and after a brief conversation, they allowed him an audience with the marquess. After that, he went inside the city with some soldiers to inform the man of our plight. Hopefully, he can persuade the marquess to lend us aid, or better yet, troops to aid us on our journey. Since it seems like everything has been trying to kill us lately, a little help would be well appreciated…

After about an hour, Kent rides back through the gate, alone and with a smile on his face. His dusty armor did not damper his excitement.

He said, "Milady! The Marquess has offered us supplies for our journey to Caelin!"

Lyn politely ends her conversation with Florina and addressed her subordinate, she said, "He's going to help us?"

Kent replied, "Caelin and Araphen have been allies for many years now. Once I informed the Marquess of our plight, he agreed to help us."

Sain added, "If he would allow us to hire some mercenaries here, there's nothing but a smooth road ahead!"

Kent dismounted and knelt down before his liege. Although this came to a surprise for no one but myself, I still found this a bit…much. Even considering our friendship, I saw Lyn and Kent as equals…even if society deemed it otherwise. Regardless, I held my tongue and said nothing.

He said, "I apologize for making you suffer for so long Lyn."

Lyn takes his hand and raised him up. There wasn't an ounce of spite in her gesture, and I knew she appreciated the services of her friends very much.

She said, "Don't fault yourself Kent, you're very capable."

Sain gets flustered, "Kent?! How about me?!"

Lyn shrugs her shoulders, "Eh...you're okay."

"What?!"

The whole group erupts in laughter. To the delight of everyone but Sain, he'd become the group's comic relief. We regularly threw him under the bus for our own enjoyment, and not even a nicer soul like Lyn was innocent like this.

Wiping away a tear, she replies, "I'm just kidding Sain, you're just as capable as Kent."

Sain frowns, "But my feelings…"

I tune out from the other and I look over at the castle within Araphen. They constructed it in the gothic style, with large windows, a dark red color scheme, wide arches, buttresses all around the building for support, and a tall steeple looming over the city. I couldn't help but feel intimidated. Very intimidated.

W-Well, the castle awaits…

* * *

 **Inside the city center...**

We arrive at the city center and immediately; the sheer volume of...everything overwhelmed me. The town hall was a structure of pure magnificence, with plenty of marble columns, a colorful front facade, and an array of elderly men discussing things ranging from policy to the economy. The cathedral contained stained glass windows that complemented the red theme of the castle…

Since the marquess requested some time to prepare for our arrival, we decided now would be a good time to explore. We all broke up into pairs and dwelled into varying corners of the city…

Someway, somehow, I ended up with Florina. Together we made our way to the city markets…

"Ye Holy spear for sale! Blessed by Saint Elimine herself! To be used by the hand! Only 500 gold!"

Florina peeps at the heckling merchant, and the merchant exploited her budding interest.

"For you, little girl...I'll do half price. Half price! Oh, and I'll throw in a little rabbit for you little girl!"

She's only sixteen…

Florina's face brightens up like a toddler. She had taken the bait.

She said, "Half price and a rabbit? That's a huge deal!"

I take one solid at his product and scoffed. Pushing the merchant from Florina, I stand up for my gullible friend.

I said coldly, "Shut up, if you want buyers, try selling a truthful product."

The merchant gives me a reciprocal gaze, and he pushes me back. At this point, the surrounding crowd had taken notice of our aggression, and a small gathering of people lingered around the merchant's cart…anticipating a fight.

He said, "H-How dare you?! I'll let you know that I'm one of the most successful merchants here in Araphen!"

I roll my eyes and take one of the gold amulets the merchant had on his cart. I smack it against the wood cover and hear loud ringing.

I said, "Gold doesn't ring like this. Brass on the other hand…"

Astonished, the merchant steps back, "Wha-"

I discard the brass amulet and grab Florina by the hand. My grasp wasn't forceful, but it definitely was demanding. Florina's face goes red with embarrassment.

I said, "Let's leave Florina, he doesn't deserve your business."

"O-Ok."

…

!

On our way back to the group, something catches my eye. A woman wearing a witch's hat stood over a small stand selling trinkets. She was reading a small book that read, _Witch's digest_. Curious, I stopped.

Florina asked, "M-Mark?"

I replied, "You can go back with the others if you want. I…I've gotta do something."

Florina looks out at the crowd that surrounded us, with her eyes locking with a man drinking a cup of ale. He shoots her a suggestive glance, and she protectively presses her shoulder into mine. Better to stay with Mark than risk it with strangers, she thought.

I said, "Hm? What's up?"

She said, "Umm...I k-kinda wanna stay here with you."

"Fine."

Together, we approach the witch's stands and I inquired about a golden amulet that resembled a four-sided star. At first glance, I notice a glowing green amulet fixated at the piece's center.

The woman sets down her book and tells me that the amulet was a talisman, objects known for their beauty and magic resistance. Magic resistance is a quality that lessens the impact of magical attacks.

 _Magic resistance._

That was all I needed to hear.

I spend what little money I had on it. Florina looks on with wide eyes as I dropped a small pouch of gold onto the counter.

She asked, "What's that for?"

"It's a gift. You'll find out for whom soon enough…"

Just as I pocketed the trinket, I hear a huge explosion nearby. Squinting my eyes, I could see something black emerge from the west facade of the castle. Smoke…

This…is not good.

* * *

 **Outside the Castle…**

Everyone scurries back towards the town's square, and panic fills the air. I try my best to gather my friends while also guiding civilians to safety…

Wil asked, "Is everything alright?!"

Sain said, "I was busy talking to a nearby maiden when I heard an explosion."

Florina said, "M-Mister Mark says he sees smoke."

Erk exclaimed, "Has anyone seen my cleric?!"

I sigh, and take a quick head count. Everybody was here…everybody except for Serra.

I asked, "Erk, I thought she was with you."

He anxiously replied, "She was but she wanted to gossip at the nearby cathedral. I lost track of her and no-"

Suddenly, we all hear an unmistakable voice emerge from the sea of humanity. It belonged to none other than Serra.

She exclaimed, "Guys! Bad news!"

She hurries over and reunites with our group. Out of breath, she relayed a message given to her.

"O-One...of the cleric's said that bandits are attacking...the castle."

Erk exclaimed, "More bandits!? Why can't those guys leave us alone!?"

I'm…skeptical of that theory. Bandits only aim for small fry like local villages and trading posts, they'd never challenge the seat of the nobility.

I disagreed, "No, not bandits, these people must be properly organized in order to successfully take over a castle like that undetected.

Kent asked, "Are you suggesting assassins, tactician?"

"Yes, though I'm unsure who would be interested in attacking Marquess Araphen."

Erk suggested, "This doesn't make sense. Araphen has no rivals or enemies nearby to warrant this attack. Why would someone want to attack the marquess?"

Lyn said, "Perhaps for myself?"

Sain said, "Well then, that only leaves one person controlling the strings."

She said, "Lundgren."

I shake my head in disapproval. Something wasn't adding up.

I asked, "These consistent bandits attacks...how can Lundgren afford this?"

Kent replied, "Lundgren probably took control of Caelin's treasury, and even if the treasury is dry, I wouldn't be surprised if he secured some loans."

I clutch my fists; I thought of all the mercenaries from Illia, Bern, and other countries that Lundgren had available in the thousands because of the power of the almighty gold coin.

The overbearing weight of the situation began to weigh on the group. Thousands of them against so few of us. No tactician, no matter how skilled, could win that battle. The thoughts of us being overrun in an open field terrorized me. Erk notices my worried expression and put his hand on my shoulder. The smoke coming from the castle began to intensify.

Kent broke the silence, "What's important right now is that we secure the marquess' safety."

I nodded my head, "Yes, we should-"

As if on cue, a trio of bandits turn the corner by a building near us. The leader, a black-haired fellow with a soggy bandana, approaches our green-haired princess. He began inching closer and closer to her.

He said, "You! You're that sacean!"

"Who are you?"

The man draws something small from his cloak. The metallic shine it gave greatly contrasted with his black garb, and he lunges forward.

…

Time slows down, and the shine subsided to reveal the object's true nature. A knife.

"Lyn! Ste-"

A flash green emerges from a few blocks behind us and embeds an arrow straight into the assassin's forehead. The man falls forward and landed dead on the hard pavement. Whoever shot him had a cold efficiently.

 _Headshot._

Lyn looks over at the archers' direction. For a second, she's speechless.

"Y-You saved me..."

Her savior is a tall man wearing clothing similar in dress to Lyn. His mount was a sturdy white horse that differed in breed to our knights; it looked more suited for hunting big game than for war. His bow was still in his hands, with his eyes still locked on the other two bandits. The after mentioned men take one good look at him, and then run away.

They exclaimed, "We'll get you for this!"

…

The man looks at Lyn, and silently turns away. As if disregarding the life he just saved, he began to ride towards the castle.

I said, "Woah! Where do you think you're going?! Can Lyn at least know who saved her life?"

The man pauses and turns to face us. His horse's hooves were flush with the cobblestone.

"My name is Rath of the Kutolah tribe, I thought a sacaen tribeswoman was being attacked. It would appear that I was mistaken."

Lyn places her hand over her heart and said, "But I am from Sacae! I'm Lyn, the daughter of the Lorcan chieftain!"

Rath nearly drops his bow, "The Lorca?! There were survivors?!"

"Yes."

He points towards the castle. The blaze that had started there now completely engulfs the eastern part of the castle.

He said, "You should leave. The castle is under attack and the marquess has been accosted. Do not waste the life I just saved. The blaze may spread into the rest of the town."

I said, "The castle is under attack? We are from Caelin. In honor of Caelin's friendship to Araphen, it is our duty to help."

Rath nods and retrieved a small badge from his cloak. Flashing it at me, I realize it was the symbol of the captain's guard.

He said, "I'm the captain of the personal guard, so it's my duty to rescue the marquess. If your group can help me rescue them, I'm sure the marquess will be grateful."

I agreed, "Well then it's settled! We will rescue the marquess! Everyone to arms! We got this!"

* * *

The smoke began to block out the sun. Fortunately, the wind blew the smoke away from us. With the marquess trapped inside a burning building, our only possible route to save him was by directly accessing the throne room. Luckily, Rath provided us some intel about a secret entrance to the throne room, located on the west end of the castle. However, this entrance can only be accessed through the activation of three switches present in three (also secret) entrances. If we can activate those switches, then we can rescue the marquess. Unfortunately, Rath had left the keys for those entrances in his other tunic...that were currently burning up in the captain's quarters on the east side of the castle. I had already sent some troops to nearby homes to solicit the use of a lock pick...but since lock picks were illegal for sale in Araphen…that possibility seemed unlikely.

Wil said, "Mark! There's a man that wants us to pay him big money for his services."

A guy with scruffy hair and red robe accompanied him. His face had a "pretty-boy" appeal to him, and first impressions were not great.

Iasked, "Who? This man? What can he do for us?"

The man takes out a rusted set of jacks, picks, and shivs. A lock-picking set. This bastard somehow acquired one.

He said, "It seems you guys need some assistance breaking into that castle over there. Of course, I could just sell you this but..."

He flips the thing around like it was some toy. A demonstration of skill neither of us could match.

"I get the feeling nobody will know how to use this but me. So go ahead. Pay me."

Well, he was right about that. I could figure out a lot of things through tinkering...but there's no way I will learn how to use that complicated mess in less than an hour. We don't have the time right now.

I asked, "What's your price?"

"We can negotiate that later. Just let me break into that castle."

 _This man…is giving me all the wrong vibes._

I bite my lip. I realize that despite my opinion of this man; we had no other choice. I had to trust him. I point towards a door that Rath said hid a secret switch.

"Alright, your hired...go open that door. Don't make me regret this."

Thus was the start of a beneficial, albeit difficult relationship.

* * *

That thief (who later revealed himself to be named Matthew) opened up every door with ease to the surprise of the men guarding them. We easily disposed of those troops and had Florina and Wil activate two switches. We were able to access the final switch at ease, though one man stood in our way. Standing on top of it was a stout, heavily armored man named Bool. Myself, Lyn, and Kent stand to face him.

He said, "Ah...Lady Lyndis and her legion. You will fall beneath my lance."

Lyn asked, "You! Are you a hired sword from Lundgren?"

Bool replied, "So if I am? I keep my clients private...enough pleasantries! I will crush you!"

Bool lunges over at Lyn with his lance, which Lyn dodged with ease.

She exclaimed, "Foolish knight! I will make you regret that!"

She confidently sends a strike onto Bool's breastplate, however, Bool didn't even flinch at it.

He exclaimed, "My armor is impervious! Your puny stick stands no chance against me!"

He effortlessly grabs Lyn by her collar and flings her against the wall. The force shake the room.

Lyn struggled a little getting up, and I hurried towards her. I offer my hand for help, and she accepts. Looking down towards her waist, I realized that her sword somehow cushioned most of the impact. She was only left with a light scrape on her right arm.

She said, "I should've used the Mani Katti, I'll make him pay for that."

She discards the iron sword's hilt and began to unsheathe the Mani Katti from her scabbard. The blade miraculously glimmered with power, so much so it almost triggered a migraine.

Regardless, I confront Bool and smirked, "Don't worry about it! I've been learning some new things lately that I've wanted to try out!"

"Wha-"

I take out the red tome I bought from Anna, and extend my hand towards my target.

I said, " _Pulvis ex igni summam potestatem ades_!"

I familiar warm sensation covers my hand as I closed my eyes. The powerful purple flame lit up my eyelids, and I smiled at the intoxicating power. For the first time…I felt powerful.

 _Fire magic, simple yet effective._

When the spell finally ceased, and the smoke cleared, I open my eyes to see Bool was still standing there.

Bool chided, "You missed ladie."

There was a burning pile of ash behind him, and I realize I had burned a stray piece of furniture nearby. I lower my head in disappointment.

"I...I can see that."

Bool smiles, "Hehe…now it's my t-"

A red flame unexpectedly flew in from behind us and struck Bool straight in his breastplate. The big man cries in pain, with the heat searing the armor onto his flesh.

"Aghhhhhh!"

He falls down towards the ground, and after some unpleasant seconds…is reduced to a blackened sack of mass on the ground. He still wriggled with life…but there was no saving him now.

A voice appeared from behind me, "It helps when you don't have your eyes closed."

I turn around and see Erk. Apparently; he had finished his previous assignment pretty quickly, so he came over to see if we needed any help.

I replied, "I'll try to remember that."

Kent went over and plants his lance into Bool's heart. It was a coup de grâce; the man stood no chance of survival after those burns.

The sight…was unsettling. Although I had killed people before, I've never seen anybody go through this much pain in a fight. Most of the time, our kills were clean and relatively painless…and we directed them towards shady characters of sinister intentions. However, Bool was different. He looked nothing more than a common man trying to make his way in this world with few opportunities…and in a way he was nothing more than tool used by the higher ups. It was an unfair situation for both sides, though one had to fall so the other may live. I…

Felt pity…

We activate the last switch and a huge staircase appears from the wall behind Bool's corpse.

Kent said, "A hidden passageway! Mark! The marquess awaits!"

* * *

We went through the passageway and pushed open a revolving bookcase to find the marquess blockaded within his own throne room. With him were a couple guards, along with about a half dozen civilians.

[Cough[Cough]

The smoke coming in made the area nearly unbreathable. There was a ferocious banging on the large pine door, and I realized the assassins were right outside.

"Everyone follow us! Rath is coming with reinforcements!"

Everyone promptly evacuated, and we slammed the revolving bookcase shut. Just as we did so, the men finally broke through the door to find an empty room and no marquess.

"Drat! [Cough] Where's that damn marquess!"

"Lundgren won't be pleased! We need Araphen to stay out of this!"

"[Cough] We have to get out of here! I can't see anything!"

The assassins made their way out through the smoke and to the castle gate. By the time they got there, half of their number had already fallen to asphyxiation. Passing through the castle gate, soldiers wearing dark red armor met them. In the front was a green nomad on horseback, his bow pointing towards them.

He said, "We will accept your unconditional surrender."

They had no choice. With black lungs and a heavy heart, the group's leader walked forward with a makeshift white flag.

"[Cough] W-We [Cough] s-surrender…"

* * *

 **Later...**

After the assassins surrendered, the Marquess received the princess, her knights, her tactician, and Rath in a hall untainted of the smoke's stench.

The marquess was a middle-aged, blonde-haired gentleman with a scary look on his face. He reminded me of a story time villain, though I banished that thought to my mind's abyss.

He said, "You've done well."

Rath said, "If you have praise, it should be for Lyn's legion."

The Marquess looks over at the beautiful girl that helped rescue him. Something about her seemed...familiar. Like his old lover...and that man.

The princess said, "My name is Lyndis. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Lyndis...that name...wasn't it the name of Lord Hausen's late wife? Lord Hausen's daughter...that was.

That woman, she looked so similar to this girl in front of him. Those eyes...they reminded him of earlier days. When everything was simpler.

* * *

 **Many years ago...**

 _"Your name is Madelyn correct?"_

 _A small golden-haired boy approaches a little girl about his age. Araphen and Caelin were in the middle of the annual friendship feast; to honor the anniversary of when the two countries came together and proposed an age-old friendship. It is said that brothers should eat together often, and with that in mind, the two marquesses and their families feast every year after fall harvest._

 _She replied, "Y-Yes...and you're Constantine correct?"_

 _"Yeah...the one and the same."_

 _"So...there isn't very many kids our age here besides us right?"_

 _"Yeah...it's kind of boring...you wanna go to my room and play with some toys?"_

 _"Yes! Let me ask my dad!"_

 _"Alright!"_

 _After an afternoon of laughter, Constantine knew he made a friend for life._

* * *

Constantine said, "Oh, it's you...Rath…leave us. I require an audience alone with Lyndis."

"Of course."

He didn't want a sacaen here. Not after what happened all those years ago...

* * *

 **About Twenty years ago...**

 _Constantine was standing on the balcony overlooking his courtyard. He was to be married to his best friend...his fiancé, the lady Madelyn. He hears a door open from behind him. It was her._

 _She asked, "Constantine we need to talk."_

 _He replied, "Yes, honey?"_

 _Madelyn takes off her engagement ring and places it on the table._

 _"I'm...calling off the engagement."_

 _"W-What?! Why?"_

 _Madelyn's green eyes meet with Constantine's, "I've met another man...I'm sorry Constantine...I should've told you sooner."_

 _Far away on a hill, he notices a lone horseman with a banner. The banner of the Lorca._

 _He points towards the horseman, "It's that chieftain?! Him?!"_

 _It was the chieftain that came here on a trade mission to Caelin. He had arrived a week before. He saw them talking before, but he never suspected..._

 _Madelyn looks away._

 _She said, "It's...complicated. We're leaving tonight."_

 _The pit in his stomach made him want to vomit. He loved her so much...but he knew he couldn't bring it upon himself to force her with him._

 _"Please leave my sight. I-I'll never love another woman."_

 _Madelyn slowly extends her hand towards him._

 _"I'm sorry Constantine...you always were my fondest friend."_

 _Constantine angrily slams his fist on the guard rail. A lifetime with him, but it only took a week with that man._

 _"J-Just leave. Please."_

 _Madelyn began making for the door._

 _"Goodbye..."_

 _Tears fell from Constantine's face as he watched the love of his life ride away with that sacaen. His heart had been shattered, and as the full moon illuminated the dark castle, he wondered if he would ever put it back together again._

* * *

Constantine asked, "Do you know who was responsible for this attack?"

Lyn replied, "Yes...it was Lord Lundgren's men."

Constantine walks towards a window and spies some firefighters that were putting out the last embers of the blaze.

"That's right! Which means my castle...my fair city was damaged in your family's inheritance dispute!"

Upon hearing that, Lyn gets noticeably shaken. The marquess has a point, by coming here she had inadvertently involved the innocent people of Araphen in her struggle.

"My...My apologies."

Despite her clear remorse towards the damage we had caused, the marquess rips through her regardless.

He said, "When I heard Lady Madelyn's daughter needed assistance...I thought to lend my aid. However, as of this moment, I retract my offer!"

The tactician raises his voice, "But sir! You gave your word!"

"You left out one vital detail! This girl is tainted with the blood of Sacea!"

Those words echo through the otherwise silent hallway. Lyn and her knights This clear display of racism took aback Lyn and her knights aback by this clear display of racism…though the tactician wasn't so hesitant.

"Why you little prick!"

He clutches his fists and lurches at the marquess. His eyes scream murder, but Lyn manages to hold him back.

"No Mark! No!"

Constantine scoffed, "Your tactician is undisciplined! Leave my castle at once! Besides...I hear that Lord Hausen is ill! I must not anger the new marquess!"

Sain reaches for his sword, "You scheming..."

Lyn beckons her entourage to calm down.

She said, "It's okay...we will take our leave at once. I am proud of the sacaen blood that flows through my veins. I will NOT accept aid from a racist old man!"

Constantine pauses, and a bead of sweat drips down his forehead.

 _Her voice...it sounds like her as well._

The group began to leave the hall, but before leaving through the door, the tactician hesitates at the doorsill.

He said, "What's wrong with you?"

"I have my reasons."

Mark notices an engagement ring on the marquess' left hand.

"That engagement ring on your finger...perhaps you finally tied the knot?"

Constantine lifts his left hand to give him a better view.

"This ring is twenty years old, it's from my late fiancé. Before she left me for some sacean mongrel."

The tactician closes the door behind him. It was just him and the tactician now. It's as if he just came to a revelation.

"You're late fiancé...was she Madelyn? That sacean man, was he Hassar?"

"…"

"Yes…"

The tactician said calmly, "How much did you care about her?"

He replied, "I haven't married since. I don't plan to. I'll probably die heirless."

A few tears began to blot Constantine's eyes.

"I knew her since I was a young boy. She was my first friend...no...my best friend. Now...she's dead. Dead because Hassar couldn't protect her. I was going to live my whole life with her...she was my everything."

What happened next surprised them both. Mark slowly, approached the older man…and embraced him in a hug.

"Wha-"

"You don't really hate saceans do you? That's why you hired Rath. You just think you do because a sacean took your first love."

Constantine remains silent.

"Madelyn continues to live within Lyn."

Constantine gasped. He pulls away and shifts his eyes away from Mark.

 _He's right. Madelyn...still lives within…_

Now was the time to change his mind. He knew what he had to do.

He said, "I'll never forgive Hassar…but I'll meet you halfway. Araphen holds the second biggest bank in Lycia, and we can freeze Lundgren's account so he can't hire mercenaries. We'll request a freeze from the Ostian bank as well. We will deny any war loans. That is all we will do for you."

"Thank you…"

The tactician shakes Constantine's hand and left to return to the group, leaving him to be lonely once again.

* * *

 **That night...**

I had convinced the marquess to freeze Lundgren's accounts. Good news is that we don't have to worry about a thousand or so mercenaries waiting for us at Castle Caelin. The bad news is that now we deal with the Caelin army alone. Difficult...but not impossible.

Rath and Matthew also decided to join us for our journey. Apparently, Rath had eavesdropped on our entire conversation with the marquess, and Matthew wants more coin for his purse.

I still remember when Rath asked to join us. Lyn had accepted him with open arms. Literally.

 _More soldiers for the death march to Caelin._

We set up camp, and Lyn and I used this opportunity to divulge into some small talk below the stars and the _full moon_.

She asked, "Since when could you use magic?"

"Erk and I discovered my ability a while back...to be frank we were both shocked."

Lyn chuckled, "You surprise me all the time."

I smile and agreed. Not wanting to put this off any further, I take out the small box I bought in the Araphen market earlier.

I said, "Speaking of surprises, I have another right here."

Lyn gasped, "Oh? Oh my. You remembered!"

I place the wooden box in her hands and tenderly wrap her palm around it. The wood was of fine mahogany, though it was the inside that made all the difference.

"You should open it."

"Gladly."

"…"

Lyn opens the box, revealing a small, green magical amulet.

I said, "It's a talisman. It'll protect you from magical attacks. I got in green, so it'll match your eyes."

Lyn smiles, and her gazes shifts from her gift onto me. Her cheeks turn red, though this time it wasn't because of embarrassment. She…she was blushing.

She said, "I love it! This is so thoughtful!"

I breathe a sigh of relief. I'd been anxious that she wouldn't appreciate my gift, but I suppose with girls like Lyn the material good itself didn't matter. It's the thought that counts.

 _!_

The lower side of my body leaves the floor as Lyn tackles me to the ground. Her head was squarely on my chest, and…her tears leak through the fabric of my shirt.

"Lyn...why are you crying?"

She replied, "It's been...two years since I last got a birthday present. I was 16 then...now I'm 18. I can't describe how much this means to me..."

I placed my right hand on the ground for support and used my left to wipe her hair away from her face.

I think of all the loss she had suffered through in her life. Losing her family, her tribe, and her entire livelihood. However, now she no longer had to bear with this burden on her own. Since the day we first met, we had dealt with many foes, taken on allies, and discovered things about ourselves. However, one thing will always stay consistent, no matter what happens, we will always have each other's back. Always.

I said, "You deserve nothing less. You're my best friend."

Lyn wipes away her tears, "Yeah..."

I help Lyn put on her new gift, and a strange pit develops around my gut. Somehow, it seemed like it made her even more beautiful under these stars.

 _…_

I push this thought away as soon as it came.

 _What the hell? What am I thinking? She would never want me like that! I'm a commoner, and she's a princess for Elimine's sake. I can only ever be her friend…. nothing more nothing less. I need to get rid of these feelings and leave so I can go practice with Erk._

I wiggle away from her grasp.

"Hey...I've got to go. Erk's waiting for me."

Lyn frowned, "Aw...do you have to go?"

She pouts and gave me puppy-dog eyes, "Come on, it's my birthday."

I rolled my eyes and sighed, "I know better than to make you angry."

She stubbornly punches my arm. Her ruse of anger was honestly pretty cute…

"Hey! When am I ever mean to you?"

I replied. "How about that time you punched me, or that time you had me carry all your stuff, oh and let's not forget when you threw me into that river!"

She laughed, "I remember that! It was so funny! You smelled for days!"

"Not for me though..."

 **…**

We continue talking for a long time, and eventually, the birthday girl excused herself to her tent.

I spent my last waking hour looking up at the stars and wondering what I did to deserve a friend like her...

* * *

 **A/N: Changed the age of the Marquess for story.**


	9. Siblings Abroad

**Chapter 8: Siblings Abroad**

 **by SodiumChloride12, derived from Fire Emblem, owned by Nintendo.**

 _ **A/N: I'm surprised I was able to get this off on Super Bowl weekend. Considering how boring that game went, I might've had more fun writing instead. Regardless, I hope y'all enjoy this next installment of Son of Mind and Bane!**_

 _ **P/N: Beware! These next chapters are a reflection of the writer I used to be, and are riddled with prose mistakes that are no longer present in my later works. If you'd to continue reading, please do so with this in mind. It should start to clear up after the 12th chapter, and be almost indistinguishable after the 25th one.**_

 _ **N: The Legion decide to help a pair of siblings. Doing so, they come into contact with the infamous Black Fang. With the clouds of darkness visible over the horizon, Mark begins to suspect something sinister is at play.**_

* * *

 _I find myself sitting on a plain wooden chair, and my body refused to move. Choking darkness surrounds me like a veil of black smoke, though I found no need to breathe. Looking around, there was absolutely nothing for as far as the eye could see._

 _A glowing red eye appears directly in front of me, and I could make out the silhouette of a tall man. My eyes lock onto the figure...and I quickly realize that I couldn't look away. It spoke to me with a commanding voice that possessed a hint of anominity protecting its identity._

 _"You are not to feel. You do not have free will. I made you that way. Your only purpose is to serve me. Do you understand that? I gave you abilities for the sole purpose of becoming my tool...to enforce my will upon others. Your life is mine. All of it. You are incapable of denying that. Don't trifle yourself with my other emotional creations. They are imperfections associated with those inferior beings...humans. You have no imperfections, and will never be human."_

* * *

 **Somewhere in the Lycian wilderness...**

We were hiking through a dirt trail in the Lycian woodlands. Anyone with a blade was busily hacking away at the dense vegetation, though I struggled to just survive. The air's polluted with a dense sheet of pollen, a substance that reacted terribly with my allergies. Our progress these past couple days wasn't great, and I reason that we'd only be able to cover about 5-10 miles today...

 _This sucks..._

After a full morning of grueling work, I secured a moment with the always-serious knight Kent.

I asked, "Why are there no paved roads?"

Puzzled, he replied, "A road? Why would anybody want to build one of those?"

I find this odd...

I nodded, "Why not? The ease of travel would allow for improved trade between cities. You said that the Lycian cantons are bounded in a league of defense right? Would this not allow for easier transport of troops?"

Kent shook his head, "Sometimes Lycian cantons wage war with each other...the league only takes effect during conflict with another nation...like Etruria or Bern. The Ostian marquess is the leader of this alliance."

I raise my brow, "Why would a nation with a similar culture and ideals want to war against each other? It's like fighting against your brothers...your family."

Kent replied, "A truly united Lycia...that's a fascinating thought. However, the games of royalty, of power, are truly ones rigged against ordinary people. My service is to Caelin and Lyn, and for now, I will defend my canton to the death."

These internal conflicts within Lycia were counter-intuitive to the success of this nation. The beauty of this country, its bountiful streams, bustling markets, fertile farmlands; all being used in the games of these noblemen. But what could a man like me do against a social order so ingrained in this nation? It'd be impossible for a commoner like me to do anything about it. Impossible.

I look out into the dense forest that lay ahead of us and frowned.

Kent said, "I wouldn't worry about this forest much longer, we'll be clear of it by the end of the hour."

I give a sigh of relief, "Thank Elimine, if I have to stay in this forest any longer, I th- a-achoo!"

A large wad of snot falls onto the ground and Kent looks away, pretending not see it. My face goes red with embarrassment...

I laid my head down in silence as we continued on our journey to Kathelet, a canton just north of Caelin...

* * *

 **In an inn nearby...**

Nils parts his lips from his flute amid the dancing crowd and smiles. Life right now was good; the inn he and his sister have in had been resting in was promising in terms of donations. Off the corner of his eyes, he sees the kind innkeeper that gave them this opportunity happily selling drinks in his built-in tavern. Nils takes the moment to lift some of his light blue hair from his red eyes. His dancer sister, Ninian, breathes short quick breaths amid sweat coming down her brow. Her energizing dances have taken a lot from her, though she was happy nonetheless.

Ninian looks on as a burly lumberjack with wood chips covering his shirt approached the duo's donation pot. He had a towering frame and large hands, which drops a midsized bag of gold...

He said, "You two make me feel like I can chop down trees all day! Keep it going!"

The lumberjack had every reason to desire their talents. Their music and dances were magical, revitalizing the tired muscles of everyone in the room. For people with mysterious origins, they'd quickly become two of the most popular people here.

Always ones to perfect their crafts, Ninian nods at her brother who blows into his instrument for a perfect C. His ears perk up as the note comes out flat. Not wanting to taint his sound, he pushes his head joint in, shortening the instrument to for a more desirable sound. Satisfied, he took a deep breath and returns his lips onto his mouthpiece.

...

SLAM!

Suddenly, a trio of hooded men slam open the door of the tavern. The sound is so demeaning that it attracts the attention of everyone nearby.

A threatening voice fills the air, "Where's the innkeeper?!"

Time stands still, and no one spoke a word. The silence was so choking and absolute that one could hear a pin drop. One man looks over at the tavern towards the innkeeper, who still had a mug full of rum in his right hand.

The man growled, "If no one will speak..."

He takes a knife and points it towards the innkeeper. The docile business owner responds by raising his hands over his head, dropping his patron's beverage with a mighty crack on the floor.

The ruffian said, "We're looking for a pair of blue-haired siblings..."

He allows the blade to drive a small cut into the man's throat. The innkeeper was so nervous that his entire body had coated itself with a thick layer of sweat, whose acidic properties burns into the open wound.

The ruffian snarled, "You wouldn't know where they were...would you?"

The innkeeper gulps, but he doesn't pause to make his decision. Pointing towards the blue-haired children, he said, "S-She's over there s-sir."

The tension in the air explodes as the bandits glare at the two siblings standing across the building. They're

Ninian turned to run but was tackled down to the ground before she could. The fall caused wooden splinters to puncture her right arm.

"Eeek!" she screamed.

One of the strongmen pinned her to the ground, immobilizing her.

"And the other one you rat?" asked the man. He scanned the room for the blue-haired bard.

"H-He was just there." said the innkeeper.

Off to the corner of his eye, the kidnapper saw a flash of white and blue. He threw a knife in that direction.

The knife hit the wall with a thud. A monk barely sidestepped away from the blade. His blonde hair brushed up against his white robe. Although the man was most definitely male...something about him seemed feminine. Similar to the long gone fabled race of elves.

"It's frowned upon to hurt a servant of Elimine...you should know that." said the monk.

The monk's gaze drifted towards the lumberjack huddled in the back of the crowd. The bandit didn't seem to notice.

The bandit scoffed, "I don't believe in that crap."

The monk shook his head, "You Black Fang should concern yourselves with things more important than a couple of young travelers...but if it's relevant to you...the small one got out through that window."

The fangsman smiled, "Thanks for the advice holy man."

He turned towards the other two, "You, wrap up the girl. You, help me find the boy!"

The monk observed with worried eyes as the dancer girl was forced away with those men. He pushed away his guilt.

 _You wouldn't have been able to fight them on your own. All that matters is that we were able to save the boy._

His gaze went towards the lumberjack that had the bard hidden in his coat. His hand was covered over the boy's mouth to prevent him from screaming for his sibling. The monk heard the door of the inn slam into its frame. The assailants were gone.

Gone as quickly as they came.

* * *

 **On the road...**

We had cleared the forest and found ourselves traversing through some nice terrain. Some large mountains dotted the landscape, with isolated pockets of trees and other vegetation. Despite that, rolling hills still made up the majority of the terrain. I breathed in the refreshing mountain air. My sinuses had cleared up.

 _Finally, some fresh air._

I looked over at my traveling companion nearby. He was busily reading a book. While walking. The title of the book read, _Wind Magic: The fourth magical element?_

I asked, "Hey Erk, I'm bored, let's talk about stuff."

Without his eyes leaving the book, he replied, "Why don't you talk to Lyndis? You two are awfully close."

I looked over at Lyn who was chatting away with our newest recruit Rath. Despite the man's quiet nature, Lyn was [somehow] able to solicit a fruitful conversation from him. The other alternative was Florina...

 _Yeah no._

I pleaded, "I kinda want to talk to you. There aren't many other smart mages in this army, and I feel like I'll just get harassed by Wil or Sain. Come on man, do me a favor."

Erk closed the book he was reading and put it in his bag.

He said, "What do you want to talk about?"

 _Wow...did not think I'd get this far. What do I want to talk about it?_

I said, "Hmmm...I wonder what you think about magical applications in non-combat situations."

Erk gave a big smile, "I see you too are an intellectual."

I nodded, "Books are hard to come by on the road, but I managed to procure one about using a fire tome to do help do laundry. It got me interested in the subject."

Erk nodded, "I see. Well, I'll tell you everything I know. Although magic was initially used for combat situations..."

Before we knew it, it was already midday and we had reached an area nearby an abandoned fortress. The sun rode high in the sky, and it was a couple of hours after midday. We had since joined the others, and we decided to rest near some dwellings.

"I think we're a few kilometers walk from Kathelet proper." I said.

"About a ten days ride south to Caelin." said Sain.

Lyn looked out towards the rolling hills in front of us, and for a brief moment, was lost in her thoughts. I thought I heard her whisper, "Ten days..."

A blue-haired boy emerged from the inn. He had red eyes and boots that seemed to take up half of his leg. He had a small flute with a red case secured to his body. With his worrying eyes, he seemed to be looking for his mother.

He approached us, "Excuse me..."

Lyn replied, "Yes? Can we help you?"

The young boy nodded his head, "You and your friends...are you mercenaries?"

 _Mercenaries? Last time I checked we didn't fight for someone else's coin. Oh well..._

Lyn gave a puzzled look, "And if we are?"

The boy fell to the floor on his knees. On his back, I could see some small remnants of wood chips.

"I need your help!"

"Milady...one should not let their guard down. Not even for a child." said Kent.

"Ah yes...I'm sorry but we're in a rush. Is there someone else you can ask?" said Lyn.

 _Maybe we could spare a moment to help him find his mom?_

"Lyn, pardon me for intruding. But perhaps we could spare a moment to help him?" I said.

The bard came towards me, "There's no time! Ninian...my sister's been abducted by some men!"

As if on cue, Sain erupted from the rear of the group. "Your sister?!"

Somewhere in the back, Serra broke into a cold sweat.

The bard replied, "Yes! She's been taken by some awful men! I fear the worst!"

Kent shook his head, "We haven't the time! If the Marquess is as ill as suspected...we can't lose precious hours."

Lyn observed the boy. For a moment, she put herself in the shoes of the bard. The thoughts losing your family. Maybe even his only family. She knew what the pain of living alone was like. Survivor's guilt, the nightmares. No...there was only one thing to be done.

"Kent...I want to help this child." said Lyn.

The entire legion exclaimed, "What!?"

Lyn looked over at the crowd, then at the boy. "It's just that...I can't stand the thought of someone living in this world alone. Especially if that person was taken away from you."

The legion erupted in agreement.

"You know...she has a point." said Erk.

"I miss my family sometimes." said Wil.

"I don't know what I'd do if I lost my sisters." said Florina.

"It's a knight's duty to save fair maidens!" said Sain.

I gave a sigh of relief. We were going to be able to help this boy after all.

She spoke to her red knight, "I'm sorry."

Kent shook his head, "I'm your royal retainer. There are no apologies needed."

Lyn looked at her army, "Thank you...all of you."

Sain lifted the bard up and placed him on his horse, "You're in luck laddie! Let's go get your sister!"

The musician nearly fell from the animal, "Woah!"

I asked the bard, "Can you lead us to your sister?"

The bard agreed, but he hesitated as he froze.

He immediately pointed behind me. "Look out!"

I turned just in time for a stiff shoulder to bury itself into my shoulder. I lost breath as it lifted me up and slammed me into the floor. A strong arm pinned me to the ground. I looked up at my assailant and was caught off guard by his rough garb. He was a bandit.

He yelled, "I got one boss!"

A duo of armed men immediately arrived to join him. Everyone drew their weapons.

One of the men exclaimed, "Freeze! Move another inch and this man's a goner!"

I felt my attacker's grip double, and my hands went numb with the lack of circulation.

Another bandit nearby snickered, "Hehehe...our luck...we found him! It's back to Nergal with you! Come quietly now Nils, and we'll let the little man walk."

 _I'm not that small..._

I pushed back against the bandit's grip, but it was in vain

 _This feeling of familiarity. Nergal...why does that name sound familiar? Ugh, It doesn't matter! We have to protect the boy_ _!_

The restraining bandit looked up at Lyn, "So what will it be? The boy or this man? Of course, if you need some beckoning, I could break his arms."

Lyn's shaking hand was on the hilt of her sword. She looked at the needful eyes of the boy, and the struggling body of her best friend. One wrong move and Mark was dead, but she couldn't allow these men to take the boy away.

Her voice quivered under the stress, "Ah...Um...I..."

A large drop of sweat traveled down the side of her face. She didn't know what to do. Two choices, but neither was desirable.

I chose the path less traveled by.

The allergens surrounding us had produced for me an adequate amount of mucus. I dug into the abyss of my throat and discharged a thick loogie into my assailant's face.

He instinctively reached for his skin, cursing loudly as he did so. The sticky substance latched onto his face like a parasite.

I had bought myself a brief window of opportunity. I took out my tome with my left hand and began chanting quickly. I placed my right hand on the bandit's chest.

 _You can't miss when you're this close._

"What?!" exclaimed the bandit.

I whispered the last few words of my incantation, and I added, "You let your guard down. Burn!"

I shotgunned magical flames into his body, thrusting him a few meters away from the group. I looked towards his smoking body.

 _There's no way he survived that._

"Mark! You clumsy oaf! You're on fire!" exclaimed Erk.

I looked down to see the right side of my cloak engulfed in flames. Immediately, I panicked and started patting the fires down. Erk rushed over and threw down my cloak before the flames could sear into my flesh.

The other bandits nearby stood shocked about what just happened to his companion, Lyn exclaimed, "Let the boy's sister go!"

The ruffians began to back away slowly, "T-This doesn't concern you. Do you wanna die for something that's meaningless to you?"

Lyn pointed at the burning ashes of his companion, "Do you think we look weak to you?! I think you're due for some justice!"

One of the hooded men replied, "Justice?! Do you know who we are?! I'm done playing games! Time to get serious!"

He nodded towards his companion, who smirked evilly. His companion dug into his pocket and received a large red gun. He pointed to the sky, firing a glowing red orb high above us. After a brief moment, it reached the height of its journey and exploded, illuminating the sky with a red tinder.

The bandit laughed, "Hahaha! Stupid girl! You'll learn to never mess with the Black Fang! Take em' down boys!"

In the rolling hills and mountains around us, I could see a half a dozen bandits emerge. Some brandished axes, swords, magical tomes, and bows.

"A-Archers." squeaked Florina.

The bandits ran away with the bulk of their forces, and a lone hooded figure stood in our path. Despite his small stature, he had an disgusting aura to him. Evil even.

Lyn pointed towards the man, "Careful...that's a shaman. I hear that practitioners of the dark arts contain a forbidden power. Please be careful."

Erk nodded his head, "Yes, we anima users are at a disadvantage with dark magic users."

"However do you mean?" I asked.

Erk replied, "Just like how axes, swords, and lances have the weapons triangle, we have the magic triangle. Anima beats light, light beats dark, dark beats anima."

 _That's nice to know._

"So...Light beats Dark right? We don't have a light magic user though..." I said.

"Yes, so we must exercise extreme caution. Their power is said to rival even the mightiest beasts." said Kent.

From the inn, I observed as two men emerged. One was a blonde woman...[man?] wearing a white cloak, and the other was a muscular lumberjack.

"That's the last time I come over here again! Lousy innkeeper! I'm going home!" exclaimed the lumberjack.

The lumberjack turned and walked away, while the woman came towards Lyn. She spoke with an...unusual tone.

"Um...excuse me?" she said.

"Yes?" replied Lyn.

"I saw what happened to the boy...and I couldn't sit idle. Would you allow me to help you rescue her sister?" asked the woman.

"Don't tell me...you can use light magic." I asked.

The woman nodded her head, "Yes...how did you know? I'm a monk by profession. My name is Lucius."

"Just a gut feeling." I replied.

 _A monk...so that's suggesting she's...a he? I'm confused now._

"Oh, so you're a servant of Saint Elimine?" I asked.

He nodded, "Yes. If you wish to repent anything to me you may. However, judging from the situation, I believe there are more pressing matters."

 _Repent? For what?_

Amidst my confusion, I ordered Lucius to attack the shaman. The shaman began chanting in a language that I couldn't understand while Lucius did the same. Two epic balls of energy, one covered in darkness, the other covered in light, collided in a flashy show force. The wind gusts caused by the altercation sent up a screen of dirt and nearly made me lose my footing. Regardless, we saw as Lucius' magic went straight through the ball of darkness and into the shaman. When the dust settled, the only thing that remained of the shaman was his boots, still standing in the dirt as if a human was still using them. Lucius turned towards our legion.

"By Elimine's light, I will deliver her judgement." he said.

My mouth gaped at the small crater that Lucius had just caused. My heart skipped a beat as I realized the full depths of magic's power...

* * *

The battle had progressed well. We knocked out an archer and some other hostiles nearby [much to Florina's relief] and began making our way to Ninian's location [the abandoned fortress]. With Nils leading the way, we found ourselves bogged down on a chokepoint of some hilly terrain.

Matthew and I waited behind a long line of our soldiers.

"What's the hold-up?!" I exclaimed.

Matthew pointed at the two knights, "Those two can't go up those hills, it's too steep for them and they'll fall over. That leaves this small opening of flat land for those two to advance on. You said those two have to be in the front at all times didn't you tactician?"

Well, he was right about that. My reasoning was that if we ever were caught from a bind in the front then those two, being our armored units, would be the best to take the initial blow. They could also charge into the enemy lines if we ever wanted to stage an ambush. I never really put into consideration how this would slow down the whole line if we ever ran into some bad terrain.

"Ugh...crap. Next time I need to deploy fewer troops. Where's Florina? She can just take me to the front!" I said.

Matthew shook his head, "You sent her scouting, remember?"

 _I...did._

"We'll just have to wait a moment for the traffic to fix itself." he added.

So, the company thief and I waited. And waited. And waited. I silently swore to myself for my incompetence.

 _A lesson for the next time I send knights through rough terrain._

* * *

 **In a nearby village...**

"Oh, have we visitors?" asked the village magistrate.

I shook my head, "As much as we'd like to sample some of your hospitality, there are more vital issues at hand. Close your gates immediately. There are bandits afoot."

We had finally cleared that last chokepoint as a group, and while I sent the rest the of the legion to deal with some threats south of the river, Lyn and I decided to warn these villagers of the situation.

"A battle? I will inform the villagers and close the gates immediately. " said the magistrate.

We turned to leave but he paused and took something out of his pocket. It was clear water in a vial.

"We were going to use this for service today...but it might help you in a pinch. Please take this..." he said. He placed a small blue vial of water into Lyn's palm, who graciously accepted.

"Pure Water...we'll treasure this." said Lyn.

* * *

 **On the battlefield...**

Kent watched cautiously as Florina dug her lance into one of the enemy mages. Although he knew Florina has an affinity for magic resistance, he still felt uncomfortable with letting Florina take on a mage on her own. Much more so against men like these.

Florina swiftly dodged a stray firebolt. She felt some warmth as it disintegrated a dirt mound nearby. For a split second, she almost panicked as an arrow whizzed past her, digging itself into her foe's chest. She calmed her mind as she remembered of Wil's presence, and he gave her a thumbs up for reassurance. All they had to now was standby for new orders.

Kent smiled. Florina was perfectly capable of handling herself. He turned back towards his foes standing on a bridge. A trio of swordsmen. He turned towards Sain and Matthew, who were backing him up.

"You guys ready for this?" he asked the green knight.

Sain pressed his lance confidently against his chest, "Always..."

* * *

I returned to the bridge to see Serra conducting a healing spell on our knights. Three dead men laid dead nearby. I looked at the path ahead.

"Well, we should carry on once you two are okay." I said.

Sain agreed, "It's going to take much more than a flesh wound to slow me down."

Serra's staff dimmed, and she put her hands on her hips.

She had a sassy tone, "Oh? So you don't need this then?"

Sain panicked and nearly fell off his horse, "N-No! I need it please!"

After Serra healed up our insistent knight, we successfully crossed the river and found ourselves...having one more bridge to cross. As expected, we had company.

I counted three fangsmen this time, two shamans and one axman. I gave a look to Erk.

 _This is too easy._

I turned to motion Matthew to bait the axman. But he was nowhere to be seen.

 _Um...where is he anyway?_

"Has anyone seen Matthew?" I asked.

Everyone looked around, and sure enough, he was MIA. I couldn't help but wonder where he went...

* * *

 **In a house nearby...**

Matthew left the group as soon as he managed to slip away unnoticed. Given the low profile he's been maintaining since his debut, he deduced that he'd have about thirty minutes to send a message back home. As instructed, he let himself go unannounced.

He had entered a specific house in a predetermined location. As expected, sitting in a chair was a large man with dark blue hair. His armor probably made up over twice his body weight.

"Milord." said Matthew.

The man stood up, "Ah...Matthew...I've been waiting for you. Despite that...I was hoping that you'd be Eliwood. I've been waiting for our monthly bout."

It was true. In addition to the message, Hector and a Pharearean lordling sparred here once every month. As a warrior, there weren't many people that could compete with him like that red-haired swordsman.

Matthew replied, "The friendship you two share is solid, I don't know many people willing to travel this far once a month for a spar."

Hector laughed, "Well, he's running late, regardless, what message do you need delivering to my brother?"

Matthew cleared his throat, "It's about this dispute. Lundgren is dangerous, if he's left unchecked, he could become a problem us. Although Uther already supports the granddaughter's claim, my continued involvement in this dispute is vital to our interests. I'm afraid I'll have to delay my return to Ostia."

Hector agreed, and thought of how his brother would react to this news.

"I see. I'll make sure to tell him. You should report back now. I'm sure they'll require your assistance." said Hector.

Matthew said his farewells and hurried back to the others. He was certain they'd suspect his absence now.

* * *

 **Just outside Castle Kathelet...**

I observed the handful of fangsmen that were guarding the abandoned fortress.

 _What was the black fang doing guarding that abandoned fortress? Surely, Marquess Kathelet would've noticed by now?_

Regardless, we went ahead and took out most of their number. The bodies by the bridges are evidence of that. All that was left was the ring leader. A shaman.

We approached the entrance of the fortress, and Kent whispered in my ear, "We should remain cautious, we don't know how capable he might be."

I shook my head, "Nonsense, if the rest of his entourage expressed anything, it's the misgivings of this organization. We need to act now. I don't know what they did to Nils' sister, but for all we know, she could be in pain."

Lyn agreed, "I don't want her to be in any more pain that she has to."

Kent bit his lip, "Shall I prepare the troops for a rush?"

I nodded as he informed everyone of the order. We began running towards the shaman. Noticing our boldness, he began chanting...

BOOM!

He threw a black orb straight through our ranks, injuring Wil and throwing dust in the air. No...not dust. It was some type of black amorphous substance. We were struck with pitch darkness. I could barely see a foot in front of me.

"What the heck..." I said.

I looked around for my troops but couldn't find them. I wandered around to find Lyn, Erk, anybody.

Thump!

I stumbled over something. A person. I locked eyes with this man. He was not an ally. He grabbed on to my cloak as his eyes had nothing but pure fear.

The man spoke, his voice trembling, "A-Azazel...how is this possible?"

* * *

Matthew saw a large black orb engulf Lyn's legion in front of him. Whoever did that was obviously far stronger than any of those other shamans they've dealt with earlier.

 _There's no way that any normal person could see through that._

Of course, he wasn't any normal man. He was a thief, and with his eyes, he knew he could put a stop to this.

He lurched into the black blob, and his attention went towards two nearby figures.

* * *

"Azazel?! What do you mean?! I asked.

"Y-You should be gone. Y-You should be dead." he trembled.

Unexpectedly, he swung and laid me out on the ground. Blood began dripping down my face. He clutched his tome with a ferocity that made his veins pop out. He seemed to have broken out of a trance.

"It seems like Limstella failed to give you the Fang's judgment, regardless, I will make up for her mistake." he said.

He began chanting, and as I tried to grab his legs to knock him off his balance, he delivered a swift kick to my stomach, knocking the wind out of me.

"Nice try, but you will die today...I-"

Suddenly the man gasped and crouched forward, with a large dagger protruding from his stomach.

"W-What..."

The darkness surrounding us began dissipating, and gradually the rest of the group came into view.

The shaman fell onto the ground, blood spewing from Matthew's keepsake.

He mumbled, "Curses, blinded from my own darkness. I-It's too late, the girl...she's already..."

The shaman spat out a pint of blood and spoke no more. He was dead.

"M-Matthew..." I whimpered.

He helped me up, "You can thank me later when we're at the bar."

I nodded in agreement, and I felt a searing pain from my head.

Serra rushed over to me, "Let me see your head...you're bleeding."

A comfortable glow surrounded my head, and I gave a sigh of relief. I had not suffered another concussion.

As Serra tended to my wound, a familiar green nomad nearly startled me, "What the heck Mark! You got yourself hurt again?!"

Her tone shifted to something more tender, "Ugh...What am I going to do with you? You're always so reckless."

"It's fine..it's not grievous or anything like that. Er...how's Wil?" I asked.

"Erk gave him a vulnerary right after the blow, he's still a bit jumpy, but he's fine." she replied.

I thought about what that shaman had said to me.

 _Azazel...why is that name so familiar? Another clue of my past...was I affiliated with these bandits? I didn't like the thought. A name like Azazel didn't sound too good either. Isn't that the name of a demon?_

I looked around, "Hey...where's Nils?"

Apparently, the boy ran inside while no one was looking. The moment we realized that we ran inside, unsure if her sister was truly alone inside that fortress.

* * *

 **Inside the Fortress...**

The moment we entered the fortress, we were consumed by the eerie feeling of dread. Walking through the damp corridors, cracked walls, and mossy hallways, I felt that we were being watched. We made our way to a lighted portion of the castle, and a spider crawled around in a blown out window. Sure enough, this is where we found our bard.

"Nils!" exclaimed Lyn.

Nils was crying, "My sister...he saved her."

Carrying an unconscious woman with light blue hair was a noble-looking man with fiery red hair.

"I saw this woman being taken by this gang of ruffians. I snuck in through the back and knocked out the guard. She seemed in need of rescuing. Was I wrong to involve myself?" he asked.

Lyn shook her head, "No, you saved her life. Thank you."

A brief moment of silence inflicted the group.

Lyn extended her hand towards the stranger, who took shook it.

She introduced herself, "I'm Lyn from Sacae and that's our tactician Mark. I'm Marquess Caelin's granddaughter..."

Lyn explained to the man, who introduced himself as Eliwood, of our story. I realized she had a knack for explaining long drawn out stories.

 _Probably better at it than me._

"I know it's hard to believe...but it's true." she said.

"No, I believe you." he replied.

"What?" said Lyn.

"At first glance, you seemed to be of plainsfolk. But the more I think about it, you have your grandfather's eyes." said Eliwood.

 _Were her eyes really that prominent? Now that I think about it, it's probably the most captivating part of her. Wait...I can't say that. Ugh..._

Eliwood offered up his assistance after hearing our story. He left to talk to some "men in higher power."

 _Whatever that means._

Ninian eventually woke up and the twins were reunited, and to top it all off, as we left the fortress, a rainbow appeared over the horizon. I was floored by this development.

 _How is that possible anyway? It hasn't rained at all._

We were staying at a nearby village while Eliwood went to send off some letters. In the village square, the others loafed around while I went to buy a new cloak. When I returned, I found Lyn sitting on a park bench.

"Um...Mark." said Lyn.

"Yes?" I replied.

"Ninian lost a keepsake from her late mother, and we suspect it was stolen by the Black Fang. While she hadn't requested that we go get it back, I'd like to." she said.

"And what of your grandfather?" I replied.

"It won't take long, the Black Fang hideout is only a few hours ride. We should go." she said.

I rolled my eyes, "I'm not sure If I want to go storming fortresses full of weird people Lyndis."

Lyn sighed, "But Nils and Ninian are so unhappy."

I looked over at Nils and Ninian. They were both somberly sitting by on a bench. I felt my heart give in.

"Fine. We'll leave immediately. But on the first sign of serious trouble, we're leaving."

* * *

 **End**


	10. The Black Shadow

**Chapter 8x: The Black Shadow**

 **By SodiumChoride12, derived from _Fire Emblem_ , owned by Nintendo.**

 _ **A/N: As you can probably suspect from this chapter, I spent a lot of time listening to collegiate jargon that I understand 80.4% of. Physics does that. Hope y'all enjoy!**_

 _ **N: Tired from the earlier battle, the legion reluctantly march towards the Black Fang's base. Meanwhile, outside forces begin to realize that Mark isn't what he appears to be.**_

* * *

 **Night...**

We marched through the darkness in utter silence. Although our motives were unshaken, there was a general sense of tiredness. No one was acclimated to traveling this late in the day. We had traveled for a couple of hours now, but it felt like much more.

The steady beat of the journey felt like a comforting cradle. The soft cushion of the plentiful grass were numb on my calloused feet. My cone of vision narrowed on the road ahead of us. My breathing slowed as my posture hunched over. I fell into a dreamy trance...

 _A little sleepwalking won't hurt anyone..._

Suddenly, multiple, loud snapping fingers popped me from my bubble. It felt like rapier piercing through the kinks of my armor. A falling stream of spit fell down the side of my face. I made out the blonde hair of Lucius, our newest recruit.

He spoke with a soft tone, "Mister tactician. You must stay awake. You can't set a bad example for the others."

I groggily wiped my face with my cloak, and excess moisture stuck onto it. My amber eye twitched with irritation, and my gaze fell onto Lucius' bright blue garb.

I reluctantly agreed, "Yes...you're right. Sorry, Lucius. I'll make a greater effort to stay awake."

The general consensus was that no one would rest until the mission was done. Whether we returned in a few hours or at midnight was entirely dependent on us. That inn in Kathelet laid fresh on our minds.

I decided to keep my mind busy thinking about what happened earlier today. I stared at the moon and allowed my mind to wander...

 _That man said something that seemed familiar. That name...Azazel._

Lucius raised his eyebrow, he had taken notice to my odd complexion.

Our silhouettes were barely visible under the waning moon. You would have to be within an ear shot to make out Lucius' blue, and my green. Lucius pondered whether it was wise to ask what was wrong. He had just met this man today...

 _It's my job though. It's written that Elimine would look out for everyone, including strangers. As a man of her teachings, I should ask..._

After an awkward moment of mulling over, the monk finally broke the ice.

He asked, "Is...something wrong? Pardon me for asking, but people usually don't stare off in to space like that."

I was still lost in my thoughts...

 _Did I...know that man? He obviously knew me, and he immediately tried to kill me. Granted, he probably would've tried to kill me anyways, but..._

A snap permeated through my mental membrane, again. Lucius was getting noticeably annoyed. His white knuckles shone in the moonlight.

His voice dropped all sense of calmness, "Dude are you going off the deep end or something?"

The outburst took me off-guard. I immediately locked eyes with the monk, who was sweating bullets.

His voice quivered, "Um...Mark...sorry for the informality...I'm just wondering if you're alright..."

My attention was now fully on our priest. After spending a moment getting over his outburst, I scratched the back of my head, allowing my fingers to traverse through the thick jungle of uncut hair.

I calmly replied, "I'm alright...something's been bothering me lately...and I feel like I can't tell anyone about it."

Lucius gave a puzzled expression. He remembered his teachings.

He replied, "If you'd like to tell me you can. We monks are sworn to secrecy when it comes to things like confessions. You can rest assured no one will know, no matter how questionable it may be."

I considered his proposal...

 _It'd be nice to share this with someone...maybe he can help me._

I cleared my throat and began my long explanation...

* * *

 **In a fortress covered by darkness...**

Fang commander Beyard bit his lip. His hand gripped against the empty air as he struggled to come to terms with his superior.

He was in an isolated fortress at a location only known to a few fangsmen. Well... _was_ known to a few fangsmen. Beyard silently cursed to himself of a new development. Someone in that band of rescuers managed to track down their location by following the footprints of his soldiers. He pondered the possibility of a sacaen being within their ranks. People from the plains were notable for such feats.

His gut sank as his eyes locked with the intimidating woman before him. Despite her short stature, everyone in the base had already familiarized themselves with Ursula, a member of the Four Fangs. The Four Fangs are a group of especially talented fangsmen that specialized in eliminating special targets. Ursula's cold resolve is infamous in the organization, and she does not hesitate to enforce the fang's laws. Her purple eyes shot straight through Beyard, his thick armor useless in saving his confidence.

Her voice resembled a correctional office, "So not only did you fail to secure the children...but your incompetence led to them finding their way here."

Beyard seemed to sink deeper into his collar, and he felt a bead of sweat drip down his head.

"Yes...they ambushed us...we had no idea that tactician would be in their ranks, there are reports he may have been Azazel." he replied.

Azazel...he remembered seeing him with that man a few years ago. His inhuman golden eyes, blood red eyes, and more importantly his cold intellect. He lacked empathy like Ursula, but unlike her, he seemed completely incapable of any type of emotional stimuli. All that time ago...since his suspected demise.

Ursula shook her head, "That's to be expected, I'm unsure how he's still alive...if the reports about him are true. Regardless, it's only the end that matters. What do you plan on doing?"

Beyard said, "Defend this place with our lives. They're after this ring after all."

He took out a small, shiny ring. Its gray texture shone in the torchlight.

"This I'll be our bait" he added.

Ursula's purple eyes rested on the object.

 _What fool would risk their lives for an insignificant object? Fools...all of them. Beyard should be able to handle this._

Ursula nodded, "Very well, do not fail us. I will leave to send a letter to Nergal. He needs to know his little pest may have returned."

She turned to leave and opened the door to their chamber, she gave a Beyard a cold look.

"I will return by sunrise, and if the children are not here, I myself will deliver the fang's judgment."

Beyard watched as Ursula left the room. He turned to the two silent soldiers in the room with him.

"You two...come alive! Tell the others we're expecting visitors. Battlestations!" he exclaimed.

* * *

"Um...Lyn?"

Lyn looked at her mounted friend, the lavender knight Florina.

"Yes?" she asked.

Florina cleared her throat, "How have you been? Are you tired?"

Lyn took a swig of black coffee from her canteen, "I was...but not anymore."

She was very fortunate for her decision to buy some coffee beans in Araphen. The caffeinated drink was like a shock across her tired body.

Florina awkwardly fumbled with gloves, looking away she said, "Oh...um...t-that's good."

Lyn felt an uneasiness in her voice...which was unusual. She was usually very nervous around men, but never around her. Something was up.

Lyn asked, "Florina, there something you want to tell me?"

Florina replied, "Yeah...I-It's about Mark. You guys have been close lately."

Lyn raised an eyebrow, "Yes...we talk often and we're pretty good friends...oh? Don't tell me you're jealous for my attention are you?"

Although the only light came from the dim emanation of the full moon, she could see Florina's face turn red. "No! Not that at all! It's just...It's just, just."

Lyn softly put her hand on her shoulder, "You don't have to tell me now if you'd like."

"Do you like him?" she blurted out.

Luckily everyone was either too tired or too far away to listen.

Lyn found herself turning the same shade of red, "No! It's n-not like that! W-We just have each other's back that's all! Why would I like him? He's so dorky, annoying, and uptight. Plus he's so awkward!" she exclaimed.

Florina saw Serra look towards them. A notorious gossip. The duo hushed their voices.

Florina said, "Seriously, do you? It's nice to share secrets with friends you know. I won't tell."

Lyn looked away, "W-Well...to be honest, I don't know."

Florina sighed, "He's a nice man. Besides...you two basically just happened onto each other by chance! It must be fate..."

Somewhere else in marching caravan, the dim moonlight revealed a black and purple haired duo lurking through the night.

Erk confidently raised his fire tome, reading the notes he had written on the parchment. He spoke with a very matter-the-fact tone.

"As you know, magic comes with two factors that must be considered anytime it is performed. First, there's magical power, or rather, the ferocity of the magic itself. This is why a fireball from different mages can pack a different punch. MP, as it is for short, can naturally be strong in some folks, and weak in others. Regardless, this can be trained like any normal muscle to strengthen our attacks. The second, Mana, can be explained as a "currency" for magic usage. If you have mana, you can use spells. If you don't have enough and push yourself too hard, you collapse, or worse. This has happened between mages so many times that it was given a name, Magic Deprivation, and in its worst case, Total Magic Deprivation. MD can involve symptoms ranging from a minor headache and feeling of weakness to begin with, to nausea, seizures, a coma, to death for TMD. Along with MP, Mana can be trained for us to have more "currency" by default."

I gleefully scribbled on a notepad, "Mana is used for all magical abilities. It can be used to fling fireballs, raise defenses against other magical attacks (resistance), and healing. Magical Force, the total force magically inflicted unto an action, directly correlates to the MP and Mana used in an incident. The more of both, the more force."

Erk snapped his fingers, "Yes! Are suggesting that if we could quantify Mana and Magical Force, that we could directly quantify the Magical Force inflicted during an incident?!"

I gave a thumbs up, but then groaned, "Probably, but as of yet I'm not aware of any standard unit to express Mana, MP, or MF. Everything that we're talking about is arbitrary."

Erk looked towards the full moon, "I hope to be the man that can find that out."

A familiar green knight yawned behind them, "You two are a bunch of nerds."

Our irritated red knight glared at him.

"Be quiet, Sain." said Kent.

Sain immediately fell in line. He had never seen Kent angry, but would not like to be the first.

"Y-Yes sir." replied Sain.

A tickling sensation built up in Sain's throat, inducing him to cough onto his sleeve. He felt fine afterward and made nothing of it.

* * *

Lyn searched the ground for the messy fangsman footprints that have led them this far. Sure enough, they led up directly to the doorway of this ominous fortress. We had finally reached our destination.

We cleared some nearby forest and congregated nearby the building. The fortress exterior was badly visible under the moonlight, but I could still make out it's black painted walls that absorbed most of the light. It resembled a compound with no windows to speak of, and no light emitted from it. The stone walls showed some isolated instances of crumbling, but the structure was sound. It was completely camouflaged in darkness.

Or rather...it _was_.

There was a snoozing guard leaning against the front gate. I motioned towards Wil, who silently knocked his arrow.

Whack!

The arrow entered the guard's temple, and he fell onto the ground, motionless. We silently made our way through the crimson pool into the bright enclave. Torches lit up the entire place, and there was no way we could maintain stealth.

I whispered to the others, "Proceed with caution and don't make any noise. Stealth is our friend."

Florina neared closer, and her steed Huey spotted another tired guard right around the corner. Huey squealed, alerting the entire building of our presence.

"Intruders! It's them! Everyone attack!" exclaimed the guard.

I glared at the Pegasus who made a crude attempt to hide behind his owner.

 _Dammit, Huey._

I observed our current situation. There was no judging how many troops this Black Fang have stationed here. With that said, I should plan for our numerical inferiority. I scanned the aquamarine floors and bland, cracked white walls. Some of these walls look they could collapse at any moment, and there was only one corridor connecting the entrance to the rest of the building. The corridor was wide enough to be defended by one man, a detail I took note of this immediately. With our cover blown, there was no point in keeping our voices down.

"Knights! Take the vanguard!" I exclaimed.

"Yes sir!" exclaimed the duo.

Right as they passed me, I stopped them.

"I'm going to need you two to shout as many insults as possible, set them off. But do not instigate combat. Let them come to you." I said.

Kent gave me a puzzled look, "But why? You must be kidding! That type of fighting is dishonorable."

I pointed towards the corridor, "I think we're outnumbered in this fight. You two are going to need as many one-on-one matchups as possible."

The knights immediately understood what I meant. In this mode of fighting, the only thing that matters is the win.

Kent nodded his head, "Understood."

I turned to the rest of the group, "Everyone, here's your assignments..."

* * *

About a dozen fangsmen began flooding the stairways up to the action from the basement.

"There's a mage, archer, cleric, and two knights in the east corridor! To arms! We will show them that we are the Fang!" exclaimed a captain.

There will be no reinforcements. They all either capture the children or die trying.

* * *

A fireball flew over a wall into Kent's horse, causing him to fall on the floor. Blood spewed from his elbow. He attempted to move it, but he gasped as it failed to do so. He had broken it.

His horse squealed in pain, it's burning flesh filling the corridor with smoke. An axman exploited this opportunity to charge Kent.

Kent was paralyzed as another fireball flew into the axman, with a couple of arrows treating the man's body like their personal pincushion. He felt a force lift him, and as he turned his head, he saw his comrade. Sain put Kent onto his horse.

"Go to the rear, Serra's waiting." he said.

Kent extended his good hand to his horse, "But my horse..."

Sain looked at the burning corpse that used to be Kent's horse, the squealing had ceased a moment ago. He said nothing.

He sent Kent away as he took out his sword to face his next opponent, a soldier with a lance. Erk was nearby, quickly turning to his next available page in his tome. He had about 20 more pages until the tome was useless.

Sain thought about his fallen friend, and with a renewed ferocity, he screamed at the soldier, "WELL?! YOU JUST GOING TO STAND THERE?!"

He slammed his sword into a nearby wall. "I'LL BRING DOWN THIS WHOLE BUILDING! I'LL TAKE YOU ALL ON!"

The bandit charged forward, and Sain dodged the lance to grab his opponent's collar. He moved his grasp to his neck and shifted his weight, using this technique to slam his head into the ground. He took his sword and cut open his skull.

With the deed done, he turned towards the long line of frightened fangsman waiting to die. He raised his still bloody sword as brain matter slid down the tip of the blade.

Although Sain didn't notice, there was bloodlust in his eyes that even frightened Erk and Wil.

Sain felt his sanity leave him. With the voice befitting of a mad man, he exclaimed, "Who's next!?"

* * *

We had advanced my group to another doorway. Our enemies' bodies littered the cobblestone behind us.

I focused some of my mana into an explosion that tore open the door. As I successfully deduced, the room should connect us to the rest of the building, and eventually, their commander. I smirked as the debris flew in every direction.

 _This is too easy...this Black Fang is no match for my intellect!_

As the smoke cleared from the blast, I lowered my hand to observe my work.

Suddenly, an arrow emerged from the opening. As it was within a couple of meters of my face, I immediately threw myself onto the ground, and the arrowhead grazed the side of it. I felt my skin brush against the sharp floor, with the friction tearing, but not breaking it.

I heard a small voice scream in pain.

"Agh!"

I turned to see Florina fall onto the floor. The shocked look on her face said enough.

"Florina!" exclaimed Lyn.

For a second, I felt as the world around me slowed down. I placed my hand onto my new wound, and a blob of sticky crimson painted my bruised skin. I felt an overwhelming sense of dread fill my body, and the world around me went numb...

Lyn rushed to Florina's side as she attempted to administer a vulnerary that deeply cut the left side Florina's bleeding face. Wil let an arrow fly into the archer's abdomen, and he fell back onto a wall. With the wall as support, he began to knock another arrow towards us. Wil fumbled his new arrow as it helplessly fell onto the ground.

Wil swore, "Shit!"

Rath immediately drew his bow and implanted an arrow into the assaulter's forehead. The archer slumped against the wall and did not move again.

Rath angrily glared at the tactician who's arrogance had nearly caused Florina's death. He found him frozen in place, unmoving.

Something about him was off. He was suspicious of him since the beginning. This did not help to ease his doubt of this man...

* * *

 _I was in a familiar place, the Sacaen plains. Except, rather than the comforting feeling I had associated it with Lyn, I felt a disturbing aura. I saw a small ger. The very same one I had started my journey in. The bright sun, morbidly transformed into a blood moon. The ger, instantly multiplied into many others. I blinked, and instantly, they all erupted in flames. Many people erupted from the buildings, some shriveling up into an ember, others falling onto the floor, blue to the face. Oh God...the screaming. A ger appeared in front of me, with a huge red X painted on the door. I walked in, and saw a bloody knife with a red-eyed old man sitting on a table alone. He dug the knife into my arm, but I didn't feel any pain. As I saw a red crimson flow from my body, the blood puddled up into the floor, and a red demon emerged from it._

 _The man and the demon-faced me, and in unison they said:_

 _"You can't run away from this...you did this. Wake up Azazel. Return to your master."_

* * *

I heard a soft, high voice.

"Mark, are you alright?"

I awoke leaning against a wall, Florina was grabbing my sweating hand. Far away, I could hear the sounds of battle.

"W-What? W-Where am I?" I asked.

Florina let go, "We're still in the fortress, you just collapsed in the middle of battle."

I looked at Florina's new scar, compared to the original injury, it was quite small. It covered an area just above Florina's right eye.

"You almost died...that scar. It's my fault."

Florina replied, "What makes you say that?"

"I put you in the position to get hurt. I foolishly leveled that door without thinking if there was somebody on the other side. I-I was foolish. I should've planned for t-that."

Florina said, "I understand that you may think this was your fault. But please don't trouble yourself. I understood the risks when I joined you and Lyn. Lyn is my best friend, and I want to help her get to where she needs to be, and I would give my life to protect her. But please Mark, don't lose sleep over this. We're in a battle. Things like this happen. You can't plan everything. Besides...you're only human."

I calmed my mind, and took a moment to think about what Florina just said, "Thank you, Florina...where are the others?"

She pointed towards the corridor, "After they applied the vulnerary, they picked you up and placed you here. Lyn wanted to stay until you came to, but Rath said it was important that we killed the commander. Everyone else is either helping them or Sain on the corridor.

I stood up, and looked at the blood that stained Florina's right arm, "We should go meet them if you feel alright."

Florina nodded her head and stood up to mount Huey, "Yes, we should."

As we began walking back towards the group, Florina asked, "Hey, what exactly happened back there when you collapsed? Lyn mentioned that you were dealing with something earlier."

I thought of the disturbing memory I had just experienced. It _seemed_ so real. I just couldn't fathom what I had done before I met Lyn. I didn't want to.

I replied, "I don't really want to talk about it."

Florina looked like she wanted to ask something else, but didn't. She respected my desire to keep this part of me private. As we walked towards our colleagues, I didn't realize this was the first time Florina had confidently spoken with me.

* * *

"Agh…" said Beyard.

Beyard leaned against a wall as blood flowed from multiple injuries from his body. Lyn pointed her sword towards him.

"Give us the ring! Swear that you will leave those two children alone! If I have your vow...we will spare your life." she exclaimed.

Beyard briefly thought of following the young girl's demands, but soon thought of Ursula.

 _I will return by sunrise, if the children are not here, I myself will deliver the fang's judgment._

He dug into his cloak and received the cyanide that he had procured a long time ago. He had hoped he would never need to use it, as he had wanted to accomplish much in life. He thought of what Ursula said again, and he knew what he had to do. He had to take his fate into his own hands.

Beyard took the cyanide pills and placed them on his tongue, he slammed his molars shut, and the poison rapidly entered his bloodstream. He lost the feeling of his legs, leaned against a nearby wall.

"Failure means death." he said.

He collapsed, foaming from the mouth. His skull cracked against the pavement, the sound echoing across the empty hallways. Blood surrounded Lyn's feet.

Kent and the others flooded the room, Lyn was covering her mouth with her right hand, shaken to her very core.

"He...took his own life." she said.

Kent was a bloodied mess, his usually well-kept hair was strewn around his scalp. His iron sword had a large crack going down the center, evidence of constant fighting. He walked with a limp, and Wil struggled to support his frame.

He replied, "An organization that instills indoctrination over self-preservation. This is no ordinary band of brigands. They're well organized and seem to be pursuing an agenda."

Erk, throwing his now useless fire tome aside, said, "It seems we may have made very powerful enemies. This was not an easy fight."

Far away, we could hear the loud clatter of armor. Sain hobbled his way into the room, Serra in tow.

"Get back here! You're still injured!" she exclaimed.

Sain took one step and fell over under his own weight.

He muttered, "Keep pushing...until...the very end."

Everyone stood shocked as it Sain went still. Serra placed her staff near the knight, and to everyone's relief, Sain gave a thumbs up. He's going to live. From that day onward, everyone's respect for the man increased greatly.

Lyn broke the silence, "This Black Fang...what do they want with Ninian and Nils?"

Everyone shifted their attention to the pair, both looked very uncomfortable by the added attention. They both looked on and said nothing.

Florina and I walked in the room, and I looked upon the commander's dead body.

"Looks like we missed all the action." I said.

Rath glared at me, "If by missing all the action, you mean passing out for seemingly no reason, then yes."

 _Huh? Where is this coming from?_

I swallowed my pride, "Thank you for saving my life Rath. I'm sure Florina is as well."

Rath shot back, "Don't deflect the question tactician. Who just collapses in the middle of a battle? You're a liability. I'm starting to be suspicious of you're motives with us. "

I walked away from Florina and neared the nomad. I dropped all sense of complacency.

I spoke with a serious tone, "What are you suggesting recruit?"

Rath glared at me, "Who just randomly shows up at the house of the then-unknown heir of Caelin? Why would said person just happen to be a tactician, one of the rarest jobs here in Elibe? Why were you just willing to stick with the heiress when you don't stand to gain anything from this? Tell me...am I not right to think you have some ulterior motives?"

I clenched my fist, "I don't have any ulterior motives. My purpose here is like everyone else's. I want to see Lyn reunited with her grandfather."

Rath spat on my boots, "You're a liar."

A well of anger surged throughout my body. Without thinking, I grabbed the nomad's collar.

I angrily said, "Take that back."

Rath pushed his right leg against the ground. He clenched his fist and punched me across the face.

I caught myself before my head his the pavement. I received my tome and began casting my fire spell...

"STOP!"

I ceased mid-syllable, and Lyn threw herself between Rath and I. Rath had his bow pointed towards my head.

Lyn was noticeably shaken. She had her head hanging low as she attempted to conceal her tears.

She angrily said, "Stop this...please. I don't want to see you two fight."

Rath slammed his hand against the wall, "Do you not feel that this man is dangerous?! He has shown his capacity for intelligence, yet despite that his actions nearly killed Florina. Do you not suspect that this was intentional?"

Florina entered the fray, her bandaged head was visible to everyone.

She said, "No way! Mark would never do such a thing!"

Rath added, "How do you know? Do you _really_ know Mark? For all we know it could be an assumed name. You judge a man on their past actions...yet this man's past was conveniently omitted. For all we know, this man could be a mole from Lundgren himself!"

The room went silent. I could feel the eyes of everyone around lay on my person. The anxiety of the situation caused my brain to be muddled...and I could not answer Rath's accusations. I looked over at Lyn for some assistance, but she looked away as she seemed to consider my relationship with her.

My savior came from an unlikely source.

"Just a thought"

We all turned towards our mage, and Erk cleared his throat.

"If Mark really was as malicious as you say he is...then explain why he successfully us led battle to battle. Battle against the Ganelon? Win. Battle against some mysterious organization? Win. Battle against Lundgren's own _men_? Also a win. What you're suggesting just doesn't add up. Why would a mole lead an army against soldiers of his own master? Besides...why would a mole repeatedly risk his own life for us?"

I smiled as I began to appreciate my newfound friend. The mage from Etruria.

 _Thank you Erk!_

Florina said, "M-Mark's a nice man. I don't think he'd do anything to hurt us on purpose."

Serra added, "A man that gets hurt as many times as him, usually don't have evil intentions."

The majority of the Legion nodded their heads. Rath glumly looked away.

Lyn raised her voice, "Well, now that we have the ring...we should probably get going now correct?"

A flurry of approval flooded the fortress, everyone was ready to finally hit the hay.

As we made our way through to the front entrance, we had to walk past the countless bodies of former fangsmen. The uncomforting sight caused us to leave the fortress the same way we got in, in silence.

* * *

Although I made the journey back with Erk, I didn't have the heart to talk to anyone.

Lyn had been thinking about what happened earlier for a long time, and felt embarrassed.

 _Why didn't I speak up for him? He's my best friend! I know Mark! He wouldn't do anything to hurt us on purpose! He's only human..._

Lyn made her way back towards me, but was stopped by Erk.

She said, "I want to talk to him."

Erk shook his head, "He requested to walk back in silence, and that goes for everybody, not even you."

She frowned, "I see."

She looked at me, but I avoided eye contact. I gazed at the waning moon that provided our only light...

We made it back around midnight, and everyone that could go to sleep did. I knew I had to wake up early to purchase a new horse for Kent, but despite the need, I couldn't doze away as easily like before. A flood of thoughts crowded my mind.

 _What if Rath is right? Am I a liability...?_

 _Not even Lyn wanted to defend me! Why didn't she...!_

 _This Azazel...these memories. What the hell! Why can't I do anything about it...?!_

 _Florina's bloodied face, I know she said not to worry about it...but I can't stop thinking about it..._

 _I can't keep living like this! I can't..._

Eventually, somewhere tangled within my own thoughts, I found myself finally able to sleep. A burden was finally lifted.

* * *

Matthew snuck away in the night to a tree located just outside the village. Confident that he wasn't being watched, he dug his hand into one of the branches to receive a letter. Intel. He tore open the envelope and read its contents.

 _Dear Littlefoot,_

 _We have reports that the tactician currently with your party is an agent of the Black Fang. His name is Azazel. His appearance is pale skin, black hair, and golden eyes. Determine his intentions and if necessary, protect the heiress at all costs._

Matthew looked at the rough sketch given to him, there was no doubt in his mind that this tactician had a striking resemblance. He looked at the message underneath it.

 _Permission to terminate is granted._

 _From, Robin._

* * *

 **A/N: This chapter took a really dark turn. It won't always be like that, but I felt it was crucial for the narrative I'm trying to build. If y'all think I'm being to forceful, feel free to PM me.**


	11. Vortex of Strategy

**Chapter 9: Vortex of Strategy**

 **by SodiumChloride12, derived from Fire Emblem, owned by Nintendo.**

 _ **A/N: Physics Exam weekend! Wish me luck guys (no seriously). Feel free to drop a review and follow! Enjoy!**_

 _ **N: A mysterious man appears to Mark in his dreams. Unsure and afraid, he discloses this information to a new friend. Meanwhile, new circumstances forces him to consider his feelings towards Lyn.**_

* * *

 _I was surrounded by a black vortex. It was chilling to the bone, and white breath left my lungs as I breathed. Goosebumps appeared throughout my body, as the wind pressed against my skin like knives. I looked down towards my feet._

 _What was this thing that I was standing on? Blood?_

 _I gagged and nearly threw up right there, but my gut stayed intact. A sticky, red substance pressed against my feet. Suddenly, the vortex stopped, revealing a wide horizon around me. Nothing but a black expanse. If I could compare the sight to anything, it was like looking into the ocean at night from the coast. Nothing but darkness, my uncertainty quickly turning into fear._

 _I heard a loud slosh behind me, and shifted myself towards him on the amorphous ground. A man gradually lifted himself from the red abyss, and he was barely visible in the darkness. He was wearing a long black cloak, and with his silhouette I could make out a turban on his head. The being; having just lifted himself from the ground; paused, as if he was observing my person. After a few seconds, the man spoke with a clear, deep voice; his message cutting through the darkness like a hot knife._

 _"Azazel, it's been a long time."_

 _I stepped back; I was familiar with the name._

 _I replied, "My name is Mark, who is Azazel?"_

 _He laughed and pointed his finger towards me, "Why...that would be you of course."_

 _"Me?!" I exclaimed._

 _He nodded, "Yes that would be you, I should know, I'm your father of sorts."_

 _I gasped, and took a moment to process what he had just said._

 _My father? Am I not alone in this world? A father would suggest others as well. Does that mean I have a family? But I have to consider something else. All of this wishful thinking is for naught if this man is lying. There's no way that this is real. I am dreaming of course..._

 _"How can I trust you?" I asked._

 _He erected a large purple flame from his palm, "You possess immense magical power...as do I. I made you that way."_

 _Made...what?! How can you make a human being?! I mean you could but...that involves someone else. But he made it sound like he did it alone..._

 _Suddenly, I felt a weird sensation coming from my head, and the world around me began to collapse._

 _The man looked at his arm, as if he had a watch on, "Well...it seems our time tonight is up...I'll see you soon."_

 _The man began to fade away, but when I tried to run towards him, the murky floor halted my advance. It felt like thick syrup._

 _"W-Wait! What's your name?!" I exclaimed._

 _The man waved me away, "You'll find out soon enough..."_

I woke up to the sound of a crowing rooster, and a bright light shone through my inn window. My head ached from the lack of sleep; eye floaters, spots, and flashes polluted the rustic furnishing around me.

 _What...just...happened? That man, he had a frightening, yet comforting aura to him. Almost like some distorted father figure._

Was I really not alone in this world? It's quite likely that I had some sort of family looking out for me before Lyn and I met, but how come I'm only finding out about this now? Besides, that man, with regards to my magical power, said I was "made" to be that way. I've never heard of a father saying he "made" his son...it's too objectifying. How did that guy know that I had good MP potential anyways? Only Erk knew that from our training sessions...

The more time I thought about it, the more it sounded like bullshit. It was time to address the elephant in the room. How did that guy even talk to me in my dream?

I looked out the inn window to see the village folk begin their day. A pair of elderly men were busily playing chess outside of a coffee shop. Masons were busily wiping morning dew from their iron tools. A family's kitchen fire was expelling a small amount into the sky. A little boy was playfully chasing his puppy between the wide corridors of the town, oblivious to his older sister looking for him.

A priest opened the doors to his chapel, much to the delight of parishioners waiting for early morning liturgy. Sleepy guards gave a sloppy salute to the day shift, who were reluctant to correct them. An angry lieutenant reprimanded them, and his barking order sent a wave of birds scrambling for the air. A pair of identical twin merchants opened shop; they sported green and purple tricorns. Barrels of clean water, flour, and other dry goods adorned the exterior of the shop. The merchant with a purple emerged from an unseen corner of the store with a horse in hand...

I hurriedly made my bed put on my [still burnt] green robe. Putting my hand through the combusted material, I couldn't help but crave for a wardrobe change...

 _Crap! I can think about this later, I need to run some errands!_

* * *

We restarted our journey to Caelin. For six days we marched our way towards Lyn's mother's homeland, and I took in the clean Lycian air. Spring was ending, and along with it came the less pollinated summer.

The climate seemed to change by the day. One day we'd be wading through a humid swamp, and my robe was quickly drenched with moisture [mostly my own]. A few days later, we arrived at a small mountain range, and were slammed by an aggressive cold front. This led to some mild, pleasant weather, and these days were some of the most productive.

To be honest, the trek was pretty boring. I refrained from speaking to anyone besides Erk and Florina. Don't get me wrong, these people are very pleasant to talk to, but Erk's introverted personality only allowed me to converse with him once a day, and Florina...

 _Anxious as always..._

I spent the majority of my day trying to avert my eyes from the overbearing sun, as the constant migraines wrecked havoc to my vision's light sensitivity. I had an episode that was so bad, that I tore off a dangling piece of cloth and placed it around my eyes. I walked around blindly, and although this arrangement worked for some time, I quickly realized how dumb this was and decided to suck it up.

Midway through the trip, I caught a glance of Lyn and Rath sharing a conversation. Although I knew it wasn't my place to be concerned with their affairs, I felt a growing pit of anxiety build up within my gut.

Was...she...laughing? I never took Rath as a funny person...

* * *

Rath successfully delivered the punchline...

"Get this, once I had to go window shopping for the marquess because he had forgotten to find a gift for a diplomat. Can you imagine what this man's taste was?"

Lyn anticipating a joke, invitingly said, "I can't. What?"

Rath chuckled, "He wanted a very specific cologne from a very specific vendor in Araphen. Can you imagine a man like me having to walk inside a posh store looking like this?"

Lyn laughed, she was very much enjoying this conversation.

"That sounds hilarious! Did they kick you out?" she asked.

Rath shook his head, "Once I dropped a big bag of coin they had no objections. Gold is the ultimate negotiator..."

* * *

I tried to keep my anger hidden, but regardless I clenched my first and swore silently. Erk raised his head from his book, _An Analysis on Unequal Torques_ , and noticed my expression.

"Something the matter?" he asked.

"Perfectly fine." I lied.

 _Rath…!_

* * *

Later that night, I leveled a small house that had been abandoned during a TB outbreak many years before. Despite the awesome demonstration of power, my body churned from the mass expulsion of mana. I had obviously surpassed my limits.

Erk's silhouette lit up with the burning building. He frowned at my violent outburst and disapproved.

He said, "You shouldn't over-exert yourself."

An overwhelming sense of queasiness filled my gut. A balmy acid launched from my throat.

I threw up right there on the open field. In my rage, I had completely forgotten of the phenomenon of Magic Deprivation...

Florina's lavender hair camouflaged well with the surrounding darkness. She poked her head from her hiding spot, a thick green bush. Huey was nearby grazing on some grass. As long as he was that, he will be silent.

She worryingly looked at the inferno that erupted from the former dwelling. The combustion lit up the everything in a large radius, and she briefly wondered if she would be caught.

But she didn't care. It's not being caught by the fire's light that worries her. It's what the fire represents.

* * *

After a day more of traveling, the feelings within me were too great to deal with alone. So in response, I decided to talk to the one person I knew wouldn't let me down...

Lucius listened to everything I had to say with open ears. I was confident that the monk with be unjudgmental...

"But Lyn has just been chatting away with that man every day...and it infuriates me. Even after he punched me in the face...and accused me of all those things. It pissed me off! I swear...once I get ahold of that man...!"

Lucius said, "Have you considered telling Lyn your feelings? You've been keeping her in the dark."

I shook my head, "Why would I want to do that? She values Rath more than me nowadays. Why wouldn't she? They come from the same nation and share the same culture. It's only natural for her to be more attached to him."

Lucius disagreed, "You downplay your value to her. I'm certain she cares about you a lot..."

"Besides, when was the last time you've had a decent night of sleep?"

I had trouble focusing in on the monk's blue eyes. I breathed a pained breath as I attempted to consider Lucius' question.

"Sleep?! Like a week or two. I'm not sure." I replied.

Lucius sighed, "What's been troubling you tactician?"

My mind immediately everything that's gone wrong lately. The constant nightmares, the mysterious turban man, this drama I've been having with Rath and Lyn. Why does this all have to happen to me?!

But there are something I can't even tell a monk under oath.

I said, "It's just the drama that's all."

I avoided eye contact with my response. The monk efficiently read my non-verbals and pressed the issue.

Lucius said, "I doubt drama would cause you to lose so much sleep. Especially for a trivial thing like this. You know Lyn is only human, yet you continue to ignore her requests to talk. Did she not approach you yesterday? Did you not send her away?"

I fell into a cold sweat.

 _How the hell did he know that?_

Lucius added, "What's really going on here Mark?"

I anxiously put my sweaty hands through my burnt pockets.

I said, "I-I can't say."

Lucius read the tactician. A person so cool-headed and rational was somehow caving in to an unseen pressure. All he had to do was somehow coax the cause out of him.

Lucius said, "Mark...perhaps if I tell you a bit about myself...then you'll be comfortable telling me what's wrong?"

I considered his proposal. I could either reject and walk away, or accept and [maybe] tell him what's wrong. At the very least, this will allow me a bit more time to think.

I agreed, and Lucius began his story.

He said, "I grew up in the great nation of Etruria, living my first days with my loving parents..."

* * *

 **Many years ago...**

The great city of Livomo had been Lucius' home since he could remember. Granted, he had only been alive for three years up till that point, but still. The little toddler boy playfully scampered across the hilly terrain of the city, which was one of the biggest in Etruria. Towering red brick houses had rainwater filtering down from their roofs, a symptom of the recent storm. A flying squirrel leaped between some stray trees. Sailors drank in the shoreside taverns, carefree of the large ships that dotted the shoreline. A cool breeze of ocean air flowed through the town, uplifting the spirits of its inhabitants...

After a day of frolicking in the mud, Lucius finally decided to go home. His muddy boots created a trail of muck that horrified housewives watching from their porches. After what seemed to be a dozen lectures from these women, he finally made his back to a familiar place. It was house similar to all the others, but its well vivid side-wall mural made it stand out. The mural depicted an blonde eye-patched man dueling what appeared to be the devil himself. An fitting description for the house's owner, the fearsome Phantom Lancer.

Lucius took off his muddied boots and made his way into his home. He hurriedly made his way to the home's bathroom, a luxury in their day and age. Best not inform the parents...and definitely not mother.

He tip toed across a corridor to the family living room. A left past that door and he would be bathing in warm veil of steam...

Lucius froze. A crimson pool surrounded his father's leather chair. The illumination of the fireplace exposed who it belonged to.

 _No..._

His father, the Phantom Lancer, laid still on the ground with a knife protruding from his back. His eye lids were closed shut as his hand extended towards a dark corner in the room. Lucius' gaze followed his father's hand to the corner.

The young boy's heart sank. He was not alone.

A man with gray hair stood still, gazing ominously at his kill and the boy. Smirking, he calmly made his way to the exit.

With the man's back facing him Lucius held his father's hand, attempting to stimulate some sort of response. It was all in vain.

With his eyes full of tears, he asked, "Why...why would do this?"

The man calmly replied, "He was in my way."

The man then disappeared into the large expanse that was Livomo. Lucius could never the forget the screams of his mother as she came upon the bloodied corpse of her husband...

* * *

"My mother didn't last long after that. She was overstricken with grief and was thrown into an asylum by the city. She died shortly after, and I was taken to an orphanage." said Lucius.

I stood in shock with what Lucius had just shared with me. I imagined all the hardship he had to overcome to be who he was now. I felt shame as I realized my pains paled compared to his.

I sympathetically said, "Lucius...I'm so sorry."

Lucius wiped a stray tear from his cheek, "It's fine. I've grown a lot since that day. I even still carry my father's killer's knife with me. It's reminder that even in my darkest hour, I can overcome anything."

He revealed a silver knife from his cloak. Its dented blade spoke volumes of its purpose.

He put the blade back into his pocket. Lucius had a goal to achieve.

"Now...will you tell me what's really wrong with you?" he said.

* * *

 **Later...**

That night, Lyn and I met up on a hill some distance away from our camp. The moon was waning, and the stars were bright. I could see the deep green eyes of my first friend, the girl who survived the genocide of her people, and the heir to Caelin. I took a deep breath and sighed.

 _I was foolish to stay mad at her. Stupid even._

"Hey..." I said.

"Hey." she replied.

There was a brief, awkward silence. Despite both of us waiting for this moment all day, neither of us knew what move to take. I opened my mouth.

We spoke in unison, "I'm sorry."

I was surprised when we both finished each other's sentence. We were thinking of the same thing! We both laughed quietly at the coincidence.

The air laid still again, and decided to tell her what I felt.

"This is all my fault...I shouldn't have overreacted." I said.

Lyn shook her head, "No, if I hadn't stood up for you, none of this would've happened. The fault lies in me."

"No, it was perfectly reasonable for you to doubt me. Any normal person would have." I replied.

"I'm not a normal person to you though. I'm your best friend. If Erk and Florina were willing to back you up, I should've been as well."

 _This was going nowhere. There was no way she was going to let me accept the blame and vice versa._

"We're both human. We have faults and we make mistakes. But I'd like to grow from this. As people, and our friendship." I motioned towards her and gave a thumbs up, "Don't you agree with me?"

She returned the favor, "Of course! What's a tactician without his peerless warrior?"

We giggled and enjoyed each other's company for a while. We laid on our backs as we looked up at the stars as Lyn pointed out constellations.

Lyn pointed towards what looked like a small man holding a stick, "Pisces, Lenoir, and that's Roland. They say it looks like a tiny knight with a sword and shield! Isn't he adorable?"

I rolled my eyes, "The dragon killer? Adorable? Come on man."

She looked at my sarcastic expression. Almost by instinct, she playfully punched my left arm.

"At least pretend to think he's adorable..."

I felt the wind brush a stray twig into my cloak, and I moved my right hand to remove it. By instinct, I returned it to its initial spot. However, as I motioned my hand, instead of feeling dirt, I felt a warm hand. It wasn't my own.

My heart began beating rapidly, and I felt the same pit in my stomach that I had felt many times before. I raised my head to see the sacaen plainswoman look at me with her deep, green eyes. Her clear face turned red, and I expected her to pull away, but she didn't. I nearly shook with excitement. Without thinking, I leaned in closer, and she did the same...

She was so close to me now. Our lips were so close. I-I...I could kiss her! Our faces were a few inches away now...

A voice invaded my mind.

 _How can you dare to approach her like that? Deep down you know what you did. Azazel. Do you see what I see? Suddenly, a flash surrounded my mind. I saw ger's all around me. The screaming...the pain was unbearable. In front of me, a green-haired woman laid, shriveling in pain. Around her was a plethora of dead sacaens._

 _She raised her head and looked at me with the whites of her eyes. They were nothing but white, no iris. No life..._

I flinched and pulled away. Looking back at her, she had a disappointing look. "Lyn I need to tell you something."

"Huh?"

"I haven't been completely honest with you. Ever since we first met I've been bombarded with disturbing memories and dreams."

I clenched my hands against my hair. "It's unbearable! After all of that, I'm convinced that the life I led before we met wasn't just dishonest but outright villainous. There's blood in my hands! The screams...the countless deaths of innocents...these aren't the experiences of an honest man. Of a man that should afford your presence."

My eyes welled up with tears. Lyn observed me, silently thinking of her next move.

 _Mark's hurt. But so was I. It's wrong for me to allow him to wallow up in pain like this. I...I can help! Mark's pain is my pain!_

She placed her tender arms around me and brought me close. I hesitated.

She said with a tender voice, "It's alright. If you feel remorse then I'm sure you and that person are different. A cold-blooded killer wouldn't be haunted by the voices of his victims."

She pulled my head onto her shoulder, "Sometimes all we need is a good cry."

I stood there crying silently, the ice that surrounded my heart, finally melting.

Somewhere in the distance, Erk and Florina silently viewed the couple from the safety of covered wilderness. Although they both felt wrong for breaching their privacy, seeing Mark finally let go relieved their hearts.

* * *

 **The next day...**

Our troop had finally arrived at the Caelin border. I stretched under the Elibean sun. I had received my first night of decent sleep for a good time now. Today's going to be a good day! I turned around to observe the mountains behind us. They seem so far away now! Castle Caelin can't be much farther now!

"Hmmm, how much longer until we reach the castle Mark?" asked Erk.

I crunched some numbers in my head, "Well, we travel about 15-30 kilometers a day depending on terrain and weather...and the castle is 45 kilometers away. If we hurry, we can get there in two days!"

Serra reared her ugly head, "EW! Math makes my head hurt!"

Erk rolled his eyes, "That was basic division Serra."

Serra pouted her lips, "S-So? All I need to do I know how to read my temple's scripture to get along. I don't need Math in my life!"

Wil, laughing, replied, "Is that why you get Erk to do all your shopping for you?"

The Legion busted out in a jovial mood. If only we were aware of the danger ahead...

Nils gave a weird look, "Huh? Danger? It...it approaches!" Startled, he extended his arm towards Lyn, stopping her in her tracks.

*Thunk*

A 10 pounds ballista bolt landed within a meter of Lyn's feet.

"Woah! What the Fuck!" I yelled out. I immediately closed my mouth when I realized I just dropped an F-bomb.

The legion cautiously stepped back, I silently crushed more numbers in my head.

"Okay, so the projectile had a weight of 10 lbs, accounting for standard wind resistance and assuming an initial velocity of...okay...I think we should just be out of range…right here." I pointed towards the ground. The legion made sure to be behind it.

"That was a ballista bolt." I said to the group.

Sain balled up his fist, and sweat dripped down his forehead, "Curses, Lord Lundgren is getting serious. Deploying siege engines on his own soil."

Lyn, with a puzzled look on her face, responded, "What's a ballista?"

Right, lived in the plains her whole life.

"It's like a really big bow, except it can shoot at a range of about 450 meters max."

Florina nearly fainted, "B-Bow? 450 m-meters?"

Wil gave Florina's shoulder a nudge, "You should probably stay back miss."

I looked at the situation we were in right now. Minus the small mountain completely covering the ballista, the area was more or less flat. A complete plain east of us along with a village, some trees south, and a visible river crossing between us and the bulk of their forces. How is it possible to even shoot at us without vision? He'd have to have...that's right. A spotter.

"It's impossible to get an accurate shot like that while covered with a mountain." I said.

"What are you suggesting?" asked Kent.

I eyed the shaman and the mage currently blocking our path to the village, "You see those two magic men over there? They have the clearest view between us and the ballista, I believe they're using the mage as a signaller, look! He's doing it right now!"

Kent and I observed as the mage released some fire into the air, although to the common eye it might be assumed to be random, I noticed that he was leaving random gaps of time between each flame burst. Calculated flame bursts. Communication.

Kent nodded, "I see."

I rallied the Legion, "Kent, Dorcas, Matthew, and Erk will blitz those two troops over there. Once that is done, we will charge into the ballista. Here are the specifics..."

* * *

The trio charged into the two magic men. The mage was startled.

 _What? They weren't supposed to come here!_

He began chanting swiftly but had his shoulder felled by a swift ax strike from Dorcas. He finished his chant and laid a veil of fire around the ax man.

"Ah!" screamed Dorcas.

The mage was relieved by the conclusion, but as he turned to see his shaman comrade, he saw that he was already on the floor, with a red knight over his body.

 _Oh no..._

He felt a strong hand grab ahold of his shoulder. Dorcas had not only survived the attack but was strong enough to teach this mage a lesson. The fire had burned through the shirt he had been wearing, which was unfortunate considering it was a gift from his wife.

At that moment, as the mage looked into the pissed off eyes of the quiet man, he wished he had decided to stay home today.

* * *

"Have y'all seen Matthew anywhere?" I asked.

That shady character always seems to disappear during battles. Where did he go?!

Lyn replied, "He said he had to leave for some important business."

I placed my finger on my brow, "And...you let him leave? Aren't we paying him?"

Lyn shrugged her shoulders, "Well, he had kinda just said that and left immediately after. Didn't think it worth tracking down for."

I saw Dorcas throw the mage onto the ground, then, he climbed atop Kent's horse (with Kent still on it) and jumped off it. He used the added momentum to deliver a crushing blow onto the enemy mage.

I pointed forward, "Let's go y'all! Charge!"

* * *

Rath skillfully fired an arrow into the ballista men's shoulder. He watched as the others began to engage the forces on the river crossing.

 _How can they still trust that man?_

On the river crossing, Lyn parried a lance thrust from a mounted knight. She tried to cut the man's lance arm but instead hit the dirt surrounding them. She cursed silently.

I delivered a swift fireball into the knight, hitting both the knight and his horse. I didn't even feel like I had to aim, and just fire in its general direction.

The knight recoiled and nearly fell off his horse, but the animal, spooked, turned and ran head first into a foot soldier behind them. Lyn and I gave each other a look of surprise.

Wil fired an arrow into the chest of another knight, and before the knight could react, Florina landed her horse onto the knight. Wil sighed.

 _You really need to learn how to properly charge into a troop._

Once we decommissioned the vanguard of the enemy troop, we closed in on the enemy commander and his bodyguards.

The commander was a man named Yogi. He was a middle-aged man with brown hair, and thick, blue armor. He cautiously eyed the group.

 _Curses...how did they get that ballista? Maybe if placed the bulk of the army near the ballista I could've had a better chance in victory...it doesn't matter. Lundgren promised reinforcements._

He rallied his bodyguards around him, "Knights of Caelin! Do your duty! We will stop this pretender from stepping a foot deeper into Caelin!"

The charged into our group, taking us off guard.

Lyn tiringly raised her sword, "They're charging. I think we're all still exhausted from rushing over here."

I took in a deep breath, she was right, everyone here was still tired from my blitz tactic. I thought the blitz would scare them away and force them to rout. I was dead wrong. Now, we had semi battle worthy troops waiting to take on a half dozen soldiers.

"Troops! Rally around Lyndis! She must not fall!" I exclaimed.

I focused my mana into a fireball towards the nearest soldier, he fell over, dead. The energy loss made me take a knee.

 _Crap, when was the last time I ate? I don't have much energy now._

The enemy commander himself rushed forward and thrust his lance towards me. I managed to dodge the blow, but he swung the blunt end to land a cheap shot into my gut. I laid on the floor, winded.

Wil shot an arrow into the enemy commander, but it was fruitless, the armor was too thick.

The commander laughed, "You think your tiny toys can defeat me? You pity me too much."

A swordsman emerged and drew his sword to lunge towards me, but an arrow implanted itself into his temple. Rath had returned.

 _Heh. I should probably thank him later._

"Eh? I'll kill you two archer man." said the commander.

Rath stood confidently behind the river separating them.

 _Yeah right._

Lyn stepped in front of me, "I won't let you get any closer."

The commander smirked, "You're the pretender to my master Lundgren! You'll fall where you stand!"

The commander thrusted his spear towards Lyn, grazing her left thigh. Ignoring the blood, she plunged the Mani Katti into her opponent's chest.

The blade glowed as it shredded through the commander's armor. He stepped back.

"Agh! We...must not fall here! Everyone charge!"

I got up and mustered the strength to fire a huge fireball into the crowd of people, the power being so great that it mixed with the surrounding cold air, creating a tornado, killing 3 and severely injuring the other three. My vision began to blur, but through the haze, I made out that the commander had fallen within my flames.

I fell onto the ground.

"Mark! Speak to me!" cried Lyn. She rushed over to my side as my breathing became irregular.

I was transported to a world covered entirely with flames, and the hazy screams of the innocent filled my mind...

"Oh no...I'm sorry. Please...stop." I muttered.

"What's going on?" said Wil.

Serra exclaimed, "He's going through MD! Everyone give him space! He pushed himself too hard!"

The last thing I saw before I passed was a faint dash of pink and green.

* * *

 **At an undisclosed location nearby...**

Matthew lowered his hood as he entered an inn of a nearby village. He had been keeping a low profile since he arrived, but it was important for the mission he was to complete. To receive information.

He ordered a glass of _Love's Supreme_ , a novelty drink more noted for its carbonic flavor than its alcoholic content. He presented small-talk with the inn keep, and after gaining the woman's trust, he popped the question.

"So I hear that there's a new Marquess." he said.

The filled out a glass for one of her patrons, "Lundgren's been the regent since the original took to the sick bed as of late. Though if the rumors are true...then I suspect that isn't the whole story."

"Rumors? Surely you'd like to pleasure me with some gossip."

The innkeeper broke into a cold sweat, "I really shouldn't". She eyed the guards drinking in the far end of the inn. She whispered into Matthew's ear, "I've said too much."

Matthew took out a small bag of gold coins from his cloak and placed it on the table. "Surely you'd like a hefty tip innkeeper?"

The lady eyed the money and took it, "A source close to the Lundgren says the original Marquess was in peak health before Lundgren took over. The original marquess is being poisoned by his own brother. There's a supposed imposter claiming to be the Marquess' granddaughter. She wants to claim the throne, but of course, Lundgren won't let that stand. Lundgren is looking to have her branded as an imposter in all of Lycia, and if she doesn't die here in Caelin, she would anywhere else in Lycia. She and everyone with her will be branded a fugitive. Lundgren would have Caelin's accounts unfrozen, and I wouldn't be surprised if he managed to receive outside support to put down this usurper."

Matthew took a moment to process everything that was said and thanked the innkeeper for her time. He left the establishment as quietly as he could. He had the information he needed.

* * *

 **Back on the Battlefield...**

Matthew returned to the group and told them everything that he had learned. It was decided that as long as they were isolated politically, they had no chance of getting minutely close to Castle Caelin as long as the brunt of Lycia was breathing down their throats. They needed someone on the inside...

"Eliwood! He's sympathetic to our cause! Maybe he could do something?" said Lyn.

Sain replied happily, "Yes Eliwood! He should still be in Kathelet. If he isn't we could send him a letter?"

Matthew nodded his head, "Leave that to me, he will have our message by tomorrow morning."

No one bothered to question Matthew's methods, but Eliwood did indeed receive a letter the following morning.

"Then it's settled! We will return to Kathelet and hope Eliwood will save us!" said Lyn.

So, the group began the long journey back to Kathelet.

* * *

 **At camp later that night...**

Matthew snuck his way into Mark's tent. The tactician had been asleep since the battle earlier that day. Serra had said that he had entered into a brief coma, though he should awaken within the coming days. He thought of the message he had received earlier.

 _Permission to terminate is granted._

Granted, at this state, with his pale clammy skin, and black hair, he really did seem to resemble that monster Azazel. The calculated mastermind of the Black Fang. He drew his long dagger. The tactician laid motionless there in covered canvas on the tent. All he would have to do is remove the blanket covering his neck.

Of course, he could make this seem like an accident, he could strangle him to make it look like he succumbed to the MD he had sustained earlier. He could.

But something about this didn't seem right. Azazel was never known to sacrifice his own safety for his allies, much less his "friends". That's what he was known for, the methodical execution of his enemies, and if it came at the cost of his allies, who cares? It was all numbers to him.

But this was Mark. The same person he spied crying alone with that sacaen girl earlier. How can this be the same man? Perhaps, did Azazel turn over a new leaf?

No, it just didn't make any sense. Mark was too emotional. Too rash. Too _human_. Mark and Azazel were not one and the same.

He heard a noise coming from outside, he put away his dagger and retreated into the night.

Lyn entered the tent with a wet rag, some more blankets for herself, and other commodities to help Mark feel comfortable. She placed her hand on Mark's forehead.

 _The fever's still there._

She placed the wet rag on his forehead to lessen the heat. She took a moment to observe Mark's unkempt hair.

 _By Elimine, this boy needs a haircut._

When she finished, she took her blanket and set up bedding on the other side of the tent. It was best to give Mark his space.

She gazed at the tactician's still frame. Peaceful, but so stern. This reminded her of a man she once knew. Her father.

She eased her blanket onto her body. A comforting silence permeated the space she and the tactician shared.

Tears formed around her eyes as she thought of the many memories she had with her parents. The many hunting trips with her father. Storytime with her mother. The countless shared meals with them both. One memory shot out to her in particular.

 _Lyn felt the sacaen breeze surround her as her father lifted her small body onto his shoulders. Her smiling mother looked on as she held a basket full of bread. The trio laughed as little Lyn said:_

 _"Hey Mommy! I'm taller than you now! Does that mean I'm a big person now?"_

Lyn's sheets were covered with moisture now.

Silently she said, "Mark...I miss them so much..."

The tactician laid still, oblivious to the sobbing girl nearby.

Lyn cried herself to sleep. Her memories were filled of her dead loved ones.

* * *

 **End.**


	12. A Grim Reunion

**Chapter 10: A Grim Reunion**

 **By SodiumChloride12, derived from _Fire Emblem_ , owned by Nintendo**.

 _ **A/N: I submitted this early because I have to cram for a Calculus Exam next week. Enjoy!**_

 _ **N: Eliwood works from behind the scenes to protect the rightful heir to Caelin. Mark talks some more with the mysterious man in his dreams. Our heroes find themselves fighting against former friends.**_

* * *

Eliwood felt a small drop of sweat fall down his forehead. He sat in his chair and felt as his leg refused to sit still. He took in a fresh breath of oxygen as he looked at the intimidating situation before him. The constant chatter of his seniors filled the airways.

 _It won't be long now._

He took a glass of water provided for him and drank it. Something to calm his nerves.

The gathering of marquesses and envoys were debating over what to do about the "The Pretender Question." Much to his dislike, he was unable to change the name of the issue; the envoy sent by Lundgren had given it a certain ring that captivated his audience. It was not looking good.

He took a moment to admire the gorgeous council hall that they chose to meet at. The marble interior repelled some of the summer heat that plagued Lycia during this time of year. An amazing bronze statue complimented the center of the room. Thick blue curtains covered the stained windows, an effective countermeasure against the external noise. A wide, unlit chandelier covered the ceiling. The walls were adorned with frescoes depicting ancient battles that occurred during the time of the Scouring. One in particular caught Eliwood's eye. It was a scene of Lycia's founding father, the hero Roland, using the Divine Blade, Durandal on a horde of dragons. The artist had effectively mixed in the blood red color against the white background, a detail not lost to the young lordling.

Roland was a character that many men in Lycia hoped to emulate, if not become. He represented the ultimate display of chivalry and honor, and despite his short stature, he carried himself with a confidence that intimidated even the grandest of opponents. The little knight had also started a dynasty that lasts even now, a fact that Eliwood was very aware of. His blood coursed through his veins.

Despite that, Eliwood wished that he had a little bit of Roland's idealism right now.

Marquess Ostia, a man known as Uther, sat on a chair higher than the others. Although he had a very firm expression, Eliwood could tell he was bored. Not surprisingly, Uther never found diplomacy very interesting. There were many more interesting things to do than watch old men bicker.

Eliwood felt himself relax as he resisted a chuckle. This detail reminded him of someone.

 _Just like his younger brother..._

During the commotion, an important looking man with an orange robe stood up from his seat. His peers seemed oblivious to this gesture, and they continued debating the issue. The representative of Ryerde then proceeded to walk over to the opposing faction's row of seats. Eliwood frowned as he realized he had just lost a supporter.

In Lycia, much like a cat choosing which child it likes more, a voter can decide which side he's on by simply moving to the side of the debater. This is why the room was divided in two, with the left being occupied by supporters of the envoy of Lundgren, and the other by the supporters Lyn. The center was occupied by Uther, who moderated the debate. Much to Eliwood's surprise, Marquess Araphen had taken up to the task of Lyn's case. It was for the better as well, as a lordling, Eliwood's word carried less sway than a more senior member like Marquess Araphen. The fact that he was even here surprised him. Most of the time, the marquesses send over envoys to sit in these meetings for them.

Marquess Araphen slammed his fist on his podium, "I will NOT allow Lundgren to take the throne!"

The marquess' opponent was a short man with a red suit and blue tie. This was a relatively new fashion taken up by the lawyers and burgeoning business class of Lycia. It was a good choice too, and despite Araphen beating his opponent by several inches, he couldn't help but feel intimidated. The man had a pair of bifocals that rested blow his short, curly hair. He was a well-groomed man, and his clear voice and sharp wit made him a challenging opponent. Lundgren must've paid a pretty penny for this man's services.

The envoy representing Lundgren shouted back, "Lundgren is next in line to the throne! Thus, he should be allowed to use the crown's accounts to quash this rebellion! It's written in our alliance that the league will assist in putting down all pretenders!"

Some men nodded their heads, a couple of them added salt to wound by walking over to the envoy's aisle. Another wave of chatter filled the room as Araphen searched his mind for a response.

"Hausen's not dead yet! Besides, where is the man anyway? Supposedly he's bed-ridden, but we've yet to receive a letter or any confirmation of his condition outside castle gossip! We demand to know where he is!" exclaimed Araphen.

Men around him began to nod in agreement. The conversation then shifted to the marquess' whereabouts.

"Yes, that is quite unusual." muttered a man.

"If Lundgren can't produce confirmation, then I would suspect foul play. That's treason!" exclaimed another man.

The room continued this way for several hours, with no debater seeming to get any further traction. Eliwood nearly fell asleep as the morning quickly passed by. Eventually, the topic of Lyn herself was presented.

"And what of this pretender? How can we prove she is indeed the granddaughter of the late Madelyn?" asked the envoy.

The room grew quiet, and Araphen felt the countless eyes of the audience fall on him. He closed his eyes and thought of his late fiancé, the reason he decided to stand up for her daughter.

 _For all these years, I've had to live with the pain of my heart having lost you. I pray that through these last few words I will be able to protect your daughter. The last part of you that still dwells in this world. The one with your eyes. The one that I insulted in my rage. Madelyn, I hope you forgive me for insulting your daughter!_

Breaking the silence, Araphen spoke:

"I saw this pretender with my own eyes. And let's stop calling her that, a pretender. She has a name. Her name is Lyndis, a girl who fought tooth and nail to be given the opportunity to see her grandfather again. A man I can call my friend. She stood before me and I looked me right in the eye. I can confirm from first-hand experience...that those were the eyes of my late fiancé...Madelyn."

The room erupted with discussion as Eliwood gasped from the revelation.

 _Araphen hadn't brought up his fiance in years! For him to go that far for Lyn..._

The representative from Worde erupted from his seat, "Amazing! If anyone could point out a similarity, it'd be Araphen!"

The representative from Tania added, "He hasn't brought up Madelyn since she left, he hasn't even bothered marrying anyone else. For him to bring to mention her name after all those years..."

A noble from an unknown village rebuked the notion, "Outrageous! How can anyone believe such outlandish lies?"

Uther stood up from his chair and banged his gavel onto his desk. "ORDER!"

The council lay silent. Uther glared at everyone, taking extra effort to intimidate his peers. He spoke with a deep voice that shook the crowd to their core.

He said, "It seems like we can't come to an agreement, so there's only one thing to do. Compromise. I suggest that rather than supporting either/or, we do neither. Leave this pity squabble to the two parties. This should not bother us."

Eliwood watched as the crowd silently nodded their heads. This was interrupted with internal discussion.

Marquess Tania said, "It'd sure be nice if I didn't have to raise any of my levees."

An attendant added, "Or taxes."

The representative from Ryerde said, "I'd much rather stay home."

Uther felt his eye twitch, "SILENCE!"

Again, the council complied. Somewhere in the suited man's camp, Marquess Laus snickered. Marquess Ostia pretended to ignore this transgression.

He concluded, "We spent too much time getting nowhere. I will initiate a vote on the matter. All in agreement to stay neutral raise your hands."

Eliwood kept his hand down, but regardless, he saw as the room filled with hands raised. He'd much rather support Lyn than leave her out to dry.

Eliwood counted the hands raised. It was 29. Well above the majority. The vote had passed.

The envoy asked, "But what of the frozen accounts?"

Uther shrugged his shoulders, "Not our problem. This sounds like a simple trade dispute between multiple parties. Not of the league's concern."

Again, the room filled with agreement.

Eliwood slumped on his chair. He was exhausted.

 _Well, this is interesting. I can't help Lyn, but that also means that no one can help Lundgren. His accounts are still frozen so he can't hire soldiers outside of his canton. That means...the road to Caelin is clear!_

Araphen smiled approvingly and began to gather his things. Best to stay away from this envoy after dismissal.

With the vote having passed, Uther raised his gavel.

"With the issue having been resolved, I rule that this council is now adjourned! Fine work men!"

Eliwood gathered his things and was the first out of the building. If he could reach the others before that envoy could with Lundgren, Lyn's Legion would have the benefit of added time.

He took his horse and rode right out of the big Ostian city gates. A stray guard blew a high note into his bugle, a tradition for nobility leaving and entering the city.

 _It'll be a day's ride if I travel into the night. I must get there soon..._

* * *

Lyn spent a moment to process everything that she just heard. Her and Kent had met up with Eliwood in a meeting room located at the inn they were staying at in Kathelet.

 _The Lycian league has promised not to interfere...this...this is great!_

Lyn smiled softly, "I don't know how to thank you enough Eliwood."

Eliwood had just arrived that morning. The usual clean and composed figure had arrived to them with droopy eyes and a twig stuck in his red hair.

Eliwood seemed to have noticed it just then, and halfheartedly removed it, "Oh? I do apologize. I hadn't slept in a while now. No need to thank me. I have secured the league's neutrality, but nothing more and nothing less. That also means we're unable to directly assist you. I'm sorry."

Kent raised his brow, "We're?"

Eliwood thought of Araphen's actions, "There were...others sympathetic to your plight."

Eliwood leaned over a bit a nearly seemed to fall. Kent gathered Eliwood's things.

"The efforts you and the others toiled for us will move mountains. As for you, you need to see yourself to a bed immediately."

Eliwood weakly nodded and followed Kent out of the room. He would finally get some rest.

Lyn thought for a moment.

 _Oh, how our fortunes have changed! I wish Mark was awake to see this..._

* * *

 _I woke up in a pitch black room. I conjured a flame onto my hand, and the light illuminated a small radius around my person. The purple light met with the crimson, amorphous floor._

 _This crap again?!_

 _As before the same man with a turban emerged from the bloody expanse. Rather than stand on the blood like myself, he elected to simply magically float over it. I passively threw some flame over at the man, illuminating the upper half of his body._

 _I exclaimed, "Why do you insist on surrounding us with blood?"_

 _The man shrugged his shoulders, "I can change it if you'd like...how about a dark and gloomy dungeon?"_

 _I passive-aggressively answered, "How about something more pleasant?"_

 _He gave a puzzled expression, "Isn't that pleasant?"_

 _I gritted my teeth, "No...it's not."_

 _The man raised his hand over the floor, and whispered an incantation. My feet were forced upwards as the liquid floor morphed into solid cobblestone. Although it was still black all around, it felt nice to have dry feet._

 _"What do you want to talk about?" I asked._

 _The man waved his hand through the darkness and I found myself teleported to a new area. My eyes reset as a white light flooded the area. I felt a chilly breeze travel up back._

 _I fell backward and felt a wooden wall break my fall. I had arrived in a cabin. The cabin was humble in nature, with rustic furniture, a small table for four, and an extensive library complimenting the living room. The library was by far the most impressive aspect of this house. The man waved yet another hand as snow from outside the window blew inside, revealing a family of four. Another man was slumped against his sofa reading a book, with a woman that looked eerily similar to Ninian with him, who was also carrying a small infant. Through the silence, I could tell that the trio was having a good time. Nearby by a hearth, sat a small child playing with her doll. All three besides the man had pale skin, light blue hair, and red eyes. I suppose that trait was dominant?_

 _Despite my proximity to them, I could sense that they didn't seem to notice me. I waved my hand at them to solicit a response, but it was fruitless. They were as oblivious like a love-struck teenager._

 _I asked, "Why bring me here?"_

 _For a moment, I saw the man reach out towards the woman. The pain in his eyes was indescribable. I pondered saying something, but the man had something to say._

 _He turned towards me, "To introduce you to your family."_

No way! How can this be? These people look nothing like me!

 _I recoiled, "M-My family?!"_

 _He nodded his head, "You can call them that, although not by blood, you three are very much family."_

 _I pointed at the man reading on the sofa, he had a striking resemblance to, "That man...is he you?"_

 _He replied, "Yes, that was me, a long time ago. In a time before the Scouring."_

 _I nearly jumped out of my boots, "The Scouring?! That makes you-"_

 _"Yes, that would make over a thousand years old."_

 _"How is that even possible?" I asked._

 _"Much like you, and them, I am not human."_

 _I gradually felt my way onto a nearby chair. I slumped on it as I looked at my warm hand. My heart was pounding so fast that I felt like it could pop at any moment._

 _Not human? That's not possible?! Who am I?!_

 _"I-I'm not human? How can that be?"_

 _The man laughed and pointed towards the woman on the chair, "That woman is not human. She's a dragon. A dragon that I married here in Illia. A dragon that I planned on spending my entire life with. Those children. They're half and half. They retain dragonic blood within their veins. But as I can see from your face, you might think that they look familiar. Your gut is not wrong. Those two are Ninian and Nils. Those two are your brother and sister."_

 _I felt tears begin to fall down my face, "I-I have a family? Those two? After all this time..."_

 _The man placed his hand on my shoulder, "Yes...but they do not recognize you. I made you long after the Scouring...when we were separated. As with all dragons, they had to escape to a new realm after the final battle. I had lost my wife...but I will not lose my children. I fully intend to see them again. Unfortunately, those two had lost their memory of me when they crossed into the new realm. Now, somehow, due to the process of going through the Dragon's Gate, they think that I'm their enemy. I get that...I may look a bit intimidating...but trust me...I'm a nice guy."_

 _The man gave an awkward smile._

 _After spending a moment to process everything that was said, I felt calm enough to inquire more._

 _"What do you mean when you made me?" I asked._

 _"What I mean is that I created you from my own magic, magic so powerful as to make me immortal. Your body is created from a mixture of my DNA, and quintessence. The magic I was talking about."_

 _Quintessence must be insanely powerful...it's amazing what this world is able to do with enough effort._

 _"Can you bring the children to me? I'd like to reunite our family." asked the man._

 _I took a moment to think about his question, I thought about everything that would have to be done in order to do that. One question still remained unanswered, "What is your name stranger?"_

 _The man stood there for a moment, he cleared his throat, "My name is Nergal, and you are Azazel. Pleased to remake your acquaintance."_

 _Nergal...what a weird name. I gave him my answer._

 _"I agree to return them. But first I'd like to introduce myself to my brother and sister. Along with that, I need to resolve an issue with my best friend, it won't be resolved for another couple of weeks. Speaking of which...I should be comatose right now. I'd like to go help my friends."_

 _Nergal scratched his turban, "Actually about that, you were due to wake up a long time ago. I had to take some of your mana so I could talk to you, I do apologize."_

 _"What?! My friends could be in the middle of a battle right now! They need me!" I exclaimed._

 _Nergal took a glowing orb from his robe and threw it towards me, "This should wake you up. Godspeed my child. Remember that my children do not think well of me. Take your next few steps carefully._

 _I felt a warm sensation fill my body, and the area began to fill with light..._

I awoke to the sound of battle. I laid inside a tent alone with a rag on top of my head. A thin blanket covered my body, and light came bled through the inner fabrics of the tent. Judging by the light intensity, I deduced that it was morning. I heard my stomach grumble...

 _I'm soooo hungry! I'd kill for some food! I can't use magic unless..._

A small tray with a bowl of food immediately came to my attention. It looked like it was placed there recently.

I devoured the food as quickly as I could. Although it was only salted fish and bread, I ate it as if it were a full course meal. Content with my meal, I pushed open the tent flaps to warm heat of summer.

I exited the tent to the surprise of a bored Florina on guard duty.

I said, "What did I miss?"

* * *

 **Earlier...**

Somewhere in Mark's rambling, Erk had picked up a few tips in good strategy.

 _Make use of good terrain. Blitz the opponent when there's an opening. Take advantage of one on one matchups. Oh, and never, and I mean never, put Florina within an earshot of an enemy archer..._

They had since left the village and made their way back into Caelin without delay. Eventually, through the morning fog, they made their way to the first, and if Kent's intelligence was correct, only direct obstacle to Castle Caelin. Castle Caelin is protected by four fortresses covering a path from every direction, north, south, east and west. Each of these fortresses also has an estate held by four senior generals within the canton, the Northern general being the Paladin Eagler. Unluckily for Lyndis' legion, the general consensus was that Eagler would not let them through without a fight.

There were a few mountains cutting through the center of the battlefield, with one of them feeding a river downstream. Unfortunately, besides the silhouettes of dense trees on the other side of the river, Erk couldn't see anything else. A thick fog had made it impossible to see anything further than a few yards. That also meant there was a possibility that enemies were lurking nearby...

The group had gathered outside a village. Lyn approaches Erk, "Are you sure you'll be able to fill in for Mark? It's a daunting task..."

"There's no one else that can...we're stripped of options here." he replied.

Lyn bit her lip, "Yes...that is true."

Erk let his mind think of a strategy that could win them the day, this thought was shattered by the intrusion of an annoying cleric.

Serra said, "ERRRRRKY. I swear if you kill me, I'll haunt you."

 _Now isn't that a nice thought to have._

Matthew raised his hand, "Erk, a moment of your time, I have a skill that may be beneficial to us."

He looked over at the young thief, "What is that?"

He pointed towards his eye, "I can see very well. No- I mean VERY well. I've honed my vision to see deep into this fog. Oh? There's a big man coming this way..."

Erk heard a deep voice come from seemingly nowhere, "I see there is no reason to stay hidden..."

Sain nearly fell out of his horse, "Aagh!"

Kent squinted his eyes, "Lord Wallace! What are you doing here? Are you not retired?"

Lyn asked, "You know this man?"

Kent nodded his head, "Yes, he used to be our commander. He was plowing fields after he retired a few years back."

Wallace drew out his lance, "Was retired! Until I heard the news that a duo of traitorous knights- my knights mind you, were escorting a pretender to Castle Caelin. I swear, when I heard the news from Lundgren, I could not sit idly. This is treason."

Kent placed himself between Wallace and Lyn, "You don't think that we'd be oathbreakers do you?"

Wallace pointed towards Lyn, "Bring her to me."

Erk asked, "What are your intentions?"

Sternly, Wallace said, "If I don't like what I'll see, your journey ends here."

Erk took out his tome as he felt magic begin to build around his fingertips, "We will prevent you."

Wallace laughed, "You? Stop me? You must be-"

Lyn was fed up with the way this was going, and out of impulse she broke out of formation. Erk froze as the green nomad walked into a very vulnerable position.

 _If Mark finds out this happened...he's going to kill me._

She shouted, "Enough!"

She calmly walked to Wallace, face to face. Despite Wallace's intimidating stature, Lyn said, "This is me. I'm Lyndis of the Lorca. Daughter of Madelyn."

Wallace had an instinct to stop this nonsense and take the girl right then and there. Instead, he looked into the young lady's eyes.

 _This woman...those eyes. Her fire...I recognize this. No...I'm certain of it. This lady is indeed the child of Madelyn._

There was a brief silence shared within the party. Wil and Rath had their bows drawn, unsure if they should fire or not. To the shock of everyone but Wallace, the commander began laughing.

"Hahahaha! I always took Lundgren for a crummy lier!"

"What?" said Lyn.

"It all makes sense now, he wants to get rid of his only obstacle to the throne! I was ordered to put down a pretender, but the real pretender is sitting on a chair 20 kilometers away while I do his dirty work! The nerve of him!"

Rath and Wil lowered their bows. They felt their burdening anxiety be lifted.

Kent went over to Sain, "The commander, he hasn't changed at all."

Sain nodded, "Not at all."

Sain coughed and was shocked as blood appeared on his glove. Kent noticed Sain's shocked expression.

Kent asked, "Sain are you okay? You've been coughing since that battle against the Black Fang."

Sain hid his glove and took great care to be discrete about it.

He responded, "Just a small cold, nothing to worry about."

Kent eyed his his friend. He wouldn't lie to him would he?

"If you say so." replied Kent.

Wallace stopped laughing and placed his lance on his shoulder, "Eh...I wanted to spend my last days living in peace. Oh well, it won't hurt to take up arms again. I was starting to get bored." He extended a hand towards Lyn, "Let's go kill that guy. I never liked him anyway!"

Erk stood there shocked.

 _How the heck did that just happen? I mean, he was just about to kill us! Now he's here joining us? Did I have too much to drink last night? Wait, I didn't drink last night. Or did I?_

He jumped back into the situation, there was a battle to fight.

"Alright, so Florina since we can't see the archers, I'd like you to guard Mark's comatose body. Everybody else, here's your orders..."

* * *

The Lycian breeze refreshed my warm body. Florina and I are riding to the front line as she briefed me on the current situation.

"We have a new member, his name is Wallace. Erk took your place while you were out. He's doing a pretty good job too! We're nearly at the castle gate!

To the distance, I could see Dorcas, Lucius, and Rath dispatch some stragglers that tried to counterattack. No use of going against good soldiers like them.

For a split second, I almost had eye contact with Rath, but I turned away at the last minute.

Florina said, "It's almost like he learned directly from you Mark!"

 _Rath...I wonder what goes through his mind._

Florina said, "Mark?!"

 _Jeez...I have better things to think about than beef._

Placing my arms around Florina's hips, I exclaimed, "Hurry Florina! We must get to the front line!"

"Eeeek!" exclaimed Florina.

Florina's horse Huey felt a jolt of excitement that shook him to the core. He leaned to the right and performed an unexpected aileron roll.

A force flung me into the open air. A wave of shock filled Florina's face. Time seemed to slow down as I faced the ground.

My mind filled itself with wild calculations.

 _I should've known Florina was going to react like that! Okay, I can probably break my fall if I use my fire spell to generate upward thrust. Energy equals mass times gravity times height. I weigh 65 kg (145lbs) and gravity is 9.8...meters per second squared. Fuck! The grounds even closer now! Eyeball the height..._

The ground was speeding closer and closer...I had to act quick.

 _Shoot, I'm going to hit the ground in a few seconds! No choice! I have to do something!_

I laid out the ground with a hot flame and felt a force push its way into my shoulder. The ground didn't slow down fast enough...

 _Crap! If I throw any more fire, the thrust will dislocate my shoulder! I have to break my fall..._

I observed a nearby bush and flung myself at it. My body crashed into it as the twigs snapped against the weight of my frame.

Florina hurried her way towards me, "Oh my gosh! Mark are you okay?"

I feebly gave a weak thumbs up, saying, "Serra...please...now."

Florina hurriedly rode off to find the pink cleric, whom she found troubling Erk's ear. She plucked her away and within a few minutes, my wounds were being treated.

No broken bones, but a sprained ankle and multiple bruises. My gamble had paid off...

* * *

Eagler threw his ax at Wallace, missing its mark and taking down the pine tree behind him. With blood brushing against his brow, Wallace lunged at the man whom he had run drills with just a few years before.

Wallace plunged his lance into Eagler, however, the weapon disintegrated upon impact.

 _Curses...I knew I should've gotten a new lance._

The two crumpled on the floor, exchanging blow for blow. Wallace delivered a swift kick, which Eagler complimented with a hook to the jaw.

Lyn and Kent hurried onto the scene, "Commander! What do you think you're doing?" said Kent.

Wallace spat out some blood, "This man deserves to fall to a mighty opponent."

Eagler chuckled, "Fall? You're a dead man walking Wallace. I do respect your bravery, however."

The men stood up and Eagler kicked Wallace in the stomach, who stepped back to regain some composure. Eagler took the opportunity to draw a spare lance.

"Not fair to attack an unarmed man." said Wallace.

Eagler frowned, "I can't play fair today. There's someone I'm fighting for."

Wallace replied, "Something's telling me it's not Lundgren, you never liked that man. Tell me Eagler, why are you fighting?"

Eagler stayed silent.

"Tell me, where is your son? Why is he not on the battlefield with you? Did he not come of age recently?"

For a moment, everything went still. No one was sure what move to make.

Lyn stepped forward, "You're an honorable man, let us help you."

Kent said, "You're one of Caelin's best knights, it would hurt to lose her favorite son."

Eagler said nothing, it was almost like he was considering the offer, he then slammed his lance onto the ground, "I will not betray Lundgren! Enough with this foolishness! Come at me!"

Except no one came forward, no one was willing to attack this man who simply wanted to defend who he loved.

Lyn reluctantly stepped forward, "An honorable warrior deserves an honorable death. Lundgren is keeping your son hostage somewhere, isn't he? That villain. If it's me you want, then it's me you'll get."

Kent reached out to grab Lyn, but was stopped by the commander, "Let her go laddie. You can't stop a woman with the fire in her eyes like that. Besides, I doubt she'll lose if she got this far."

Kent frowned, "If you say so sir, I still don't feel at ease about this."

Wallace watched as the two took a battle stance, "As is the plight of a Caelin knight."

The sacaen princess and the wounded green paladin sized each other up for what was to be an epic battle. Nobody would get in the way of this fight. Almost nobody...

* * *

 **Somewhere in an apartment room in South Austin...**

There were papers cluttered all around his desk. A poster of the world was the only thing that added color to his white walls. It was marked with locations he's been to. Orlando, Thunder Bay, Dallas. Uncleaned clothes littered his closet. Other than the bed, a sole work desk occupied the space.

The author leaned back on his chair and thought about that Physics exam he just got a 45 on. He questioned whether or not he was going to pass the class and then looked at his word count.

 _Over 4000 words...crap. Time to insert a deus ex machina._

With a swift stroke on his computer, the same that was calculating the terminal velocity of a penny just yesterday, the deed was done.

* * *

Lyn blinked and saw as her opponent erupted in flames.

 _What?_

Lyn turned and saw as I limped my way closer and closer towards her. Although my leg was healed, Serra had only done patch-up work. The rest of the healing would have to be on its own.

"Stay away from her! Lyn stand back! I've got this!" I exclaimed.

Eagler howled in pain, "Aaaagh!"

"M-Mark! You woke up! No! Don't attack him! He's my opponent!" she cried.

Calming down, I approach the nomad, "So...I get here and I see Kent lending his shoulder to a bloody old man. Then I see you approach the guy who made him that way _alone._ Can you blame me for wanting to light this guy up?"

Wallace whimpered, "I'm not that old..."

Lyn fumed, "Well, I don't need you fighting my battles! I can take him on my own! Might I remind you who took out Batta when we first met?"

 _Right...meanwhile I just stood there and saw her nearly kill herself._

I rolled my eyes, "Well, it's not like I can do anything else. I wasted most of my mana trying to break a fall from Huey."

I looked away. I came off feeling like a conceited soccer mom.

"Go get him tiger." I said.

Lyn immediately kicked my shin, and my smug face turned into one of sheer pain.

Reaching for it, I said, "What the heck?"

Lyn's face went red with anger.

"You _fell_ off of Huey?! How did that happen?! I swear...what am I going to do with you and your reckless behavior?!"

Sarcastically, I said, "Yet here you are dueling someone."

Lyn scoffed, "I don't have time for this! We'll talk after I fight Eagl-"

She went silent.

"What the matter? Cold feet?" I asked.

Lyn sheathed her sword, "He's already dead."

I turned and as advertised, Eagler was nothing more than a shallow burnt husk of a man. Kent and Wallace took a knee to respect the great knight.

I looked at our knights and felt an instant sting of regret.

 _This man was honorable...what have I done?_

This man...he meant a lot to you guys did he?" I asked.

Wallace nodded, "Yes, he was a great knight of Caelin. He trained many of our soldiers, Kent and Sain included."

Facing the ground, I bit my lip.

"Don't trouble yourself tactician. He knew he was going to die here. That vile Lundgren has his son hostage. Whether by your hand or Lyn's his fall was inevitable."

 _These parlor games of Lundgren are despicable. To toy around with a man's family like that...I'll show him! The final battle is very soon!_

"We will bury this man and rescue his son. I swear on it and we will avenge him." I said.

Within Kent's stricken face I could see a faint glimmer of happiness.

To the distance our army began returning, many with minor wounds and heavy hearts. They gathered around their leader.

Lyn exclaimed, "Lundgren's days are numbered! We WILL stop that man!"

Through the troubling battle between good men and women, Lyn's Legion felt some hope. Soon enough, they'll be at Castle Caelin, and if the stars and moon allowed them, this will all be over soon.

* * *

 **Later that day...**

Mark was the talk of the camp that day. Not for his awakening from his coma, nor for his handling of Eagler, but for the big mess he was making at the mess hall. Many of the legionnaires never took him as much of a heavy eater. Especially for someone that just consumed six whole plates of food.

Mark took another bite on his biscuit.

 _I haven't eaten...for a WHOLE WEEK. Oh...how a cheese and pork biscuit tastes amazing right now. Plus Serra cooked me up some of that famed Ostian stew! I'm about to have a good time!_

Erk looked at his tactician, "It's kind of impossible to feed you when you're unconscious. You know magic takes energy. Not sure why you woke up slinging fire everywhere."

"You know, when you're falling from the sky at terminal velocity, sometimes you don't get a choice." I replied.

Erk chuckled, "Florina did apologize. She wouldn't leave you until she knew you were okay."

 _Sometimes that Pegasus knight is more trouble than she's worth. She has heart though._

"You did a pretty good job today Erk. I was scared I lost my job security." I said.

Erk laughed, "Believe me, if anyone has job security it's you, especially with how -ahem, close you are to the princess."

My face turned as red as the Ostian stew, "It's not like that I swear! It's just that..."

"Just what?" he asked with a huge smile on his face.

"I-I've got to go! I've got to meet up with Ninian and Nils!" I replied.

"Don't tell me you're cheating on her are you?"

"No! I'd never cheat on- oh shut up!" I got up and left the mess hall.

Erk chuckled and began to leave as well.

 _He's a tough nut to crack...oh well, it's so fun to mess with him!_

I walked outside of the mess hall and made for a campfire that the duo had made for the situation. Through the embers of the flame, I could make out the two people I seldom talk to the most out of anyone in the legion. Nils was reading a book while Ninian was stargazing. The book Nils was reading was a book called _Sir Roland: The Little Knight that Could_.

"I see you're a fan of reading Nils." I said.

He nodded, "What little memory I have of my mother is of her reading to me. It's always been a hobby of mine when I learned how to."

Ninian noticed me and stood up, having finished admiring one of the men constellations that dot the sky.

"May I join you?"

Nils replied, "Yes...of course, we were waiting for you. What did you want to talk about?"

I thought about what I was about to say. How my weeks of my own myserious identity could be solved now. How my life from here on out could change, either for the worst, or for the best.

I cleared my throat, "This is going to sound crazy, but I...I think I might be your brother."

* * *

 **End**


	13. The Distant Plains

**Chapter 11: The Distant Plains**

 **by SodiumChloride12, derived from _Fire Emblem_ , owned by Nintendo.**

 **A/N: This chapter covers A LOT. This is the latest installment of the series, and with that I have to give an announcement. Next** **week, I won't be uploading another chapter in the series, as I will be spending that week doing some serious revisions to my earlier chapters, especially ones where I find the writing "questionable". I'll also be spending this week doing some brainstorming for the transitional period between Lyn's and Eliwood's stories. Right now, I'm planning about 6-10 more chapters covering the time between those two stories. With that being said, I hope y'all enjoy the finale to Lyn's story.**

 **N: There's a final battle to win, but Mark discovers the terrible truth. Can he help the ones he love, while living with his new reality?**

* * *

 _I found myself aimlessly walking across a white expanse. Snow felt it's way all over my body, leaking through my boots and cloak. The mountain pass I was in did not provide any sort of cover against the elements. Far away, I could see trees covered in a white blanket, seemingly mocking me of their presence. Each step grew heavier, and the sheer cold made me lose most of the feeling in my body._

 _I fell onto the floor, with the white snow cushioning my fall against the rocky trail. I looked up at the black sky as the cold pressed sharp needles against my skin. How easy it seemed to give up right there..._

 _A light burst its way through the sky, illuminating near me as a log cabin occupied its new space. I rose up and placed my hand on the rusty doorknob, letting its rough fibers drive into my skin. I used the last of my strength to force the door open, and a loud creak filled the air. I entered the building, and as I caught a glimpse of the open fire and rustic furniture, I felt my senses return to me. Warmth at last._

 _I heard a voice nearby, "Hello. I hope you find this comfortable."_

 _I turned to see Nergal sitting on a sofa nearby. The man looked unchanged in appearance, and I could tell from the creases on his sofa that he was there for a long time. His purple robes contrasted greatly with the beige sofa._

 _I said, "Did I really have to almost die to get here though?"_

 _Nergal gave a puzzled look, and raised his hands in a faux defensive manner, "That's on your own fault. I just inserted myself in whatever dream you were having right now."_

 _I shook off some melting ice from my cloak, and with new feeling on my fingertips, I rubbed my hands together._

 _I replied, "Why did you want to talk to me?"_

 _Nergal eyed me suspiciously, "I sense discontentment in your heart. I felt like it was necessary to come to you. Come sit, we have much to discuss."_

 _I stood unwavering near the fire, furious by his oblivious nature._

 _I said, "You lied to me."_

 _Nergal felt something more than discontentment in Mark's heart, something much worse. His fingers dug into the leather arm rest, and his knuckles turned white._

 _My tone became one much less cordial, "You talked to me last time as if the siblings had no reason to be wary of you. But you misled me. The truth was revealed to me!"_

 _Nergal erupted from his sofa, "Preposterous!"_

 _I thought about what was said last night..._

* * *

 **Earlier...**

Nils' sat back on the log stump that was his chair. He couldn't believe what he was hearing.

He said, "That's impossible. There was only ever been the two of us."

I thought back to the countless times that Nergal appeared in my dreams. The enduring silhouette of the one-eyed misterioso had ingrained itself in my mind.

"A man with a turban appeared to me in my dreams. He said he was my father and that you two were my siblings." I replied.

Ninian's face turned to one of sheer terror, "A-A turban?"

Nils demeanor turned to one much more serious, "Did this man...did he-"

Ninian gave a sharp look at her brother, "No! Nobody can ever know! It'll put danger on us all!"

Nils shot a glance at his sister, one that slightly intimidating, even to me.

He said, "There's a chance he already knows. What's the point of holding an unkept secret?"

Ninian doubted her brother but held her tongue. I could tell she had more to say.

Nils' red eyes directed themselves towards me, "Was...this man's name Nergal?"

 _I am Nergal, and you are Azazel. Pleased to make your acquaintance._

I nodded, "It was indeed."

He added, "What was everything that he told you?"

I told the duo everything about what happened in my dreams. I talked about everything from my initial encounter, to the events in the cabin. I made sure to omit the part of Azazel. Eventually, I came upon the subject of Nergal wanting to reunite with his children. Throughout this entire period, the duo remained eerily silent.

"He wants me to return you two to him." I said.

The siblings eyed each other cautiously as if they were talking to each other telepathically.

Ninian cleared her throat, "Nergal's lied to you."

"What?!" I exclaimed.

"Although it is true that we lost some of our memories, we crossed into this world because Nergal called out to us. When we crossed, instead of reuniting with our father, we were instead greeted with a man that resembled him, but no longer carried any sort of love for us. He wanted to use us to transport more dragons to this world. Don't think it was so that he could just make friends with them...no...he wanted to harvest their quintessence to quench his lust for power. The black magic he used to extend his life in his quest for quintessence made him lose his mind! It all started a long time ago..."

* * *

 **The Scouring...**

Nergal hurried his children to the safety of the dragon's gate. The amount of effort it took for him to relocate his family to Valor had been for naught, his wife Aenir had been kidnapped by some men from the human army. He refused to think about the state that she may be in right now. All that was important in this moment was the safety of their children...

"Daddy...where's mommy?" said little Ninian.

Nergal laid his hands on the two of his children, "Mommy's been taken away by some bad men...don't worry about it though! I'll go save her!"

Nils cried, "But what about you Daddy? Are you going to leave us?"

Nergal felt a tear fall, "I'll be back very soon...I promise! But if I don't come back in 10 days...no matter what, I want you to cross this gate. Uncle Clarence will be waiting for you on the other side."

Nergal drew his dark tome and whispered an enchantment of forbidden magic. The gate in front of them glowed with this influx of power and began to swirl with an eerie hum.

For a second, Ninian noticed a twitch from her father's eyes and a small spasm in his arm.

 _Drat! I can't let this dark magic overtake me now! I must...I must save my wife!_

Nergal cracked a smile and gave his children a hug, "I promise I'll be back! With mommy too!"

"Dad..." said Ninian.

"We love you." said Nils.

Nergal turned and left his children there at that gate. That would be the last time that the children would ever see their untainted father again.

* * *

 **Back at camp...**

"We waited for ten days and crossed the gate as he said. We started new lives in that new world, with Ninian becoming a high-ranking priest, and myself a scribe at her temple. We lived our lives in peace, until..."

Ninian said, "Until we heard a familiar voice call out to us in our sleep."

Nils nodded, "Come to the Dragon's Gate he said. Come and see your father. At first...we thought it was a coincidence that we would both be having these dreams, but they kept coming and coming. We eventually went to the dragon's gate and saw to our surprise that it was glowing with the same glow as it had on that day. We crossed it expecting to reunite with our father...but we were wrong. Nergal had been gone for a long time now, and in his place is the very definition of evil."

I stood there astonished in everything that was just said...I have no words.

"We had to shed our dragon bodies as we lost most of our power crossing into this world. We took these human forms to cope with it. Although we could change at any time, if we were to we would shorten our life spans. Having spent so much time in the world beyond the gate, our bodies had acclimated to the stresses of that world. When we came back, not only did our bodies struggle to cope with the Elibean environment, we also found that the great battles of the Scouring had greatly impacted the ability for dragons to keep their bodies even without our issues. That being said, our time in this world is limited. Every day, Ninian and I grow weaker and weaker. At this pace, we will die within 5 years."

I could see Ninian's head drop with acknowledgment of that last sentence. We stood there in silence as we heard the crackling of the fire.

"I'm sorry, you two."

Nils shook his head, "It's not your fault, besides...it'd be nice to spend the last of my days with my sister."

There was a depressing aura that filled us. The fragility of life seemed to hang on all of us.

"I'm going to tell you something that will shock you." said Nils.

"What is that?" I replied.

"When we were imprisoned at Valor because we didn't want to cooperate with Nergal's plans, we saw many terrible things. One of these things was Nergal's creations...morphs. Morphs are beings that are incapable of free will, and although they look human, they very much aren't. They are created from the life essence (quintessence) of living beings, for the sole purpose of serving Nergal! Do you understand what I'm trying to convey here Mark? If everything that you just said was true then that would mean that you're a morph of Nergal!"

 _A...morph?!_

"Mark...are you even human? How do we know you won't take us to Nergal? How do we know that you're on our side?"

I gazed into the siblings' eyes, unsure of what words to say.

"No...I know without the shadow of a doubt he is human."

I looked over a Ninian, the usually shy girl stood to argue my case.

"Everything that Mark has done not just for us, but for the people that he loves proves that he has no allegiance with Nergal. There's another thing, I've seen him risk his life for the people he cares about is no feat any ordinary morph can do. This shows that Mark has free will! Besides...Mark loves one person in this camp more than anybody else. That person is not Nergal."

I felt flushed, "H-Hey how do you know I like her?!"

Ninian laughed, "I didn't say I did! Score!"

I placed my palm on my face, "Can we get back on the topic at hand?"

I gathered the siblings' attention.

"Having heard all of this, I promise I won't turn you two over to Nergal."

The siblings smiled, I could tell that I set a major concern of there's at ease.

My mind swayed over to the memories that have been plaguing me since I met Lyn.

"What...did Nergal have his morphs do?"

Nils said, "He had them serving from everything to common foot soldiers to super weapons. I've heard stories of how Nergal would send off morphs to fight battles for the sole purpose of quintessence. He'd use his organization, the Black Fang, as a cover for these operations. His favorite was a particular morph named Azazel."

"A-Azazel?!"

Ninian said, "Yes, he was among his newer morphs. Nergal loved to brag to us how he was his perfect creation. Supposedly, his magic rivaled in strength to Nergal himself. We never got to see him, but one day, Nergal just stopped talking about him. Another morph, Limstella, replaced him as his favorite creation. We never found out what happened to him..."

Nils said, "I remember him mentioning before his disappearance that he was sent on his first mission out east. Of course, that was two years ago, nobody knows what came of him."

 _Azazel? But...Nergal called me that._

I cleared my throat, "When Nergal came to me on my first dream, he called me by that name. Azazel."

Ninian and Nils gave each other a concerned look.

Nils said, "Are you certain about that Mark?"

I nodded slowly, "Yes."

Ninian gasped, "How is that even possible?"

Nils gave me a straight face, "That explains your affinity for magic. If you are indeed Azazel, then you would've inherited his abilities. Tell me, do you have any memories as him?"

My answer was immediate.

"I-I have nightmares every night. Some of them involve burning buildings, some involve some type of corrupted event. All involve death."

"It seems that you have been cursed with memories as Nergal's hand. Do they affect you at all?"

I thought back to all the times those memories have struck me.

"Every night I wake up drenched in sweat. Sometimes during battle, I'll have flashbacks of a screaming child, or if I'm firing off a fire spell, a burning building. I-I even passed out once from the shock of nearly dying. Earlier, I tried kissing a girl I liked, but when I did, I was transported to a dying village for a split second. There isn't one day where these memories don't damn me."

Tears fell down my eyes as I spoke about my painful memories. I struggled to keep my composure. The siblings both gave me an empathetic look.

"Mark..." said Ninian.

We continued talking into the night, so much so that for a moment, I almost forgot that we were to fight Lundgren tomorrow.

I stood up to leave, Ninian grabbed onto my burnt cloak sleeve. The fabric crumbed against the pressure of her fingers.

"Do you want us to keep this secret?" she said.

I pondered my possibilities, it seemed there was only one answer.

"Yes, at least until I can come to bearings with myself. I'll keep your secrets as well."

Nils agreed, "Although we aren't siblings, I'll make sure I keep your secret with my life."

"T-Thank you...it really means a lot to me." I replied.

Ninian gave me a concerned look, "Are you going to be able to sleep tonight?"

I shook my head, "I doubt it...but it's not like I have much of a choice."

Nils said, "Don't keep your burdens to yourself for very long Mark. After this battle, you should go seek help. For your health. It's not normal for memories like those to haunt you frequently."

I nodded and began to leave, the siblings turned to see as my silhouette vanished into the night. Tomorrow was the final battle...

Somewhere nearby, a green hair poked out from a bush. Lyn was crouched down, a flurry of thoughts filled her sweat-drenched head.

She could not believe what she just heard. She had arrived late in the conversation, curious of Mark's whereabouts. However, now only one name resonated in her mind.

 _Azazel._

* * *

 _A threatening black aura began to fill the cabin. The cabin door flew open, extinguishing the flame behind me. Nergal and I were covered in darkness._

 _"Azazel wasn't your son...he was your tool! Nothing more than your hand for your malicious deeds!" I exclaimed._

 _Nergal stood there silently, calculating his next move._

 _"These memories...the very reason I struggle to live! They were your doing, weren't they?! What did you have me do?!"_

 _Nergal lifted a hand, and I felt a disgusting black sludge surround my body. My breaths became short and fast as the substance began to immobilize me. Black magic._

 _Nergal cracked his neck and gave a devilish smile, "I see... It seems you won't come to me easily. I'll have to bring you over by force."_

 _"Wha-"_

 _I tried to whisper an enchantment of fire magic, but to my surprise, all magic within me was gone._

 _"You don't understand, do you? At any moment, I can order you to do my bidding, just like any of my countless morphs! Those memories? How about we bring one up right now?"_

 _Nergal waved his hand as we were transported to the same plains that had haunted me before, fire surrounded us, and dead bodies littered the field._

 _I felt myself shake, "P-Please! Don't!" I closed my eyes and turned away._

 _Nergal took his hand and placed it on my scalp. He pulled my hair up to force me to watch what was going on. The force was so great, and I felt my feet leave the ground._

 _I couldn't turn away. Every scream haunted my soul. Every death, a stain onto my psyche._

 _"Does this not flatter you Azazel? You always were efficient when it came to getting your job done! AHAHAHAHA!"_

 _A wife and her husband limped their way onto the field. I could see that they had blue faces, and they coughed up blood onto a white rag. The couple seemed familiar..._

 _"Oh? It seems some more tribesman have come to play?" said Nergal._

 _Tribesman?!_

 _Nergal snickered, "Do you not realize where we are Azazel? I thought your recent trip to Sacae would've jolted your memory."_

 _No._

 _I felt my arm steadily rise up, trembling with each agonizing centimeter._

 _It can't be._

 _I felt as mana began to accumulate around my hand, as soon as I felt the tingle, I held it back._

 _Nergal took his free hand and jabbed my rib from behind, causing me intense pain, "We can't have that! Face your reality Azazel!"_

 _Tears began to fall from my face, the pain was just too much. My trembling hand and my broken mind could not hold back the power. A green blaze emitted from my hand as it hit the couple dead on. Nergal dropped me unto the floor, and as I raised my head, to my horror, I saw the charred skeletons of the couple._

 _I turned and faced Nergal, "You monster...why did you make me do this?"_

 _Nergal clapped his hands, ignoring my clear trauma, "Fine work Azazel. Not bad quintessence this was. Especially since it was chieftain and his wife."_

 _The cruel realization hit me. My mind went into a frenzy as triggered memories flooded into my mind. It was all clear now._

 _Two years ago, Nergal ordered me to lead the Taliver Bandits and destroy an entire tribe in Sacae. I poisoned their water supply with a local strain of Tuberculosis and led the bandits straight through all of the Lorca's defenses. No...It wasn't a battle...it was a massacre. We killed hordes of people, many of whom were defenseless to stop us. Our partners, the Talivers, looted and took some slaves, while we received a countless amount of quintessence. It was a mutual relationship._

 _"Do you understand now boy? I own you. You can't escape your past. If Lyn were to ever find out who you truly are...you know what would happen to you."_

 _I said nothing, a hopeless feeling took control of my entire body._

 _"If you won't_ serve _me willingly, I suppose I'm going to have to force you."_

 _Nergal swiftly clasped his hand around my head, and I felt darkness surround my entire soul. I felt myself growing weaker and weaker..._

 _The sorcerers crooked laughter radiated through the darkness._

 _"You see Azazel...you never had a choice."_

 _Choice._

 _My mind went over to my friend Erk, the quirky cleric Serra, the vain knight Sain, and the rest of my friends I made since I met her. Her. Lyn. The one I owe my life to._

 _I have unfinished business! I owe Lyn my life! This isn't my life to lose here! I owe her a life debt! I can't lose here!_

 _A purple glow emitted from my soul, illuminating the area and blinding Nergal._

 _"Outrageous! How is this possible?! What is that light?! It can't be! You have a soul?"_

 _I conjured up magical fire and threw off the rest of the sludge from my body, the fire from the surrounding buildings intensified._

 _Nergal said, "Y-You can't have a soul! Morphs don't have souls? Only humans have souls!"_

 _The fire surrounding us grew and grew, eventually getting so hot as that the surrounding smoke caused Nergal to collapse due to the lack of air._

 _I looked at the crumbling excuse for a man, "I guess I must be human then." I replied._

 _I whispered the fire enchantment, and a huge glowing red orb appeared on my hand._

 _Nergal hissed, "This won't be the last you see of me! Even if you won't obey my orders...I'll get you and the siblings too!"_

 _I ignored him, and with all my strength, I threw the fireball straight at him._

 _"GET THE HELL OUT OF MY HEAD!"_

* * *

I awoke covered in sweat, accosted from my slumber after that encounter. I felt relieved to be out of that experience. As I opened my eyes to begin my day, my heart skipped a beat. I wasn't alone in my tent.

Above me stood Lyn, sword drawn, her weapon pointed at my throat. Her eyes were covered in tears, with her arms trembling. I laid there motionless, unsure of my next move.

"You...after all this time." she said.

I looked in the eyes of my assailant. In them, I could see a confliction within herself I've never seen before.

"Lyn! What are you doing!"

She used her free hand to wipe away some tears from her face.

"To think after all this time. The man that I trusted with my life. The one who led my army. The one...I gave my heart to. To think that he was the one that engineered the slaughter of my parents...my people. How could I be so foolish?"

 _No way! Did she hear my conversation with the siblings?_

She steadily pressed her sword against my throat, and I sat there helpless to stop her should she decide to puncture it.

"You will die here Azazel."

My mind was filled with scenarios of escape. I thought of kicking the sword away or trying to use my tome nearby to blast the whole tent open. But the more and more I thought about it, the more my mind gazed into how I completely destroyed Lyn's world. Not just Lyn's world, but everyone she knew. A culture was obliterated, never to be seen again for the rest of existence. I thought about all my painful memories, and how much more painful it must've been for Lyn as these people, _these people_ were the very people she cared about. There was only one thing to do.

I closed my eyes and accepted my fate.

The hot summer breeze blew into the tent, and amid my manufactured darkness, I could hear the shackling of Lyn's gear.

"Aren't y-you going to fight back?"

I opened my eyes to see the sword had inched away from my throat, "My life is yours. Do with it as you must."

Upon hearing those words, Lyn dropped her sword and laid onto her knees, she covered her hands on her face and sobbed.

I stood up, unsure if my life was in jeopardy anymore, "Lyn?"

"Y-you were supposed to fight back. To think...you were the reason I wanted to train and become a better sword fighter. I wanted to find you and avenge the death of my tribe. Ironic isn't it? Here I am...unwilling and unable to bring myself to harm you."

"Lyn...I-"

"No! Shut up! Just shut up!"

Lyn stood up and began making for the entrance, and without facing me, she said, "You have five minutes. Leave immediately or I will kill you."

She left through the tent flap, Mani Katti in hand, leaving me alone and speechless in my canvas tomb.

As the early morning birds took flight, Erk hurridly came upon the tent site of Mark the tactician. He was gone, and all he could see was footprints leading south.

* * *

 **In a river clearing north of Caelin...**

I laid my few possessions out by a small stream 5 kilometers from Castle Caelin. I heard the birds chirp as the flew around in the woodlands surrounding me. The clouds steadily began to darken and could hear some distant rumbling. The stream gently crashed into rocks nearby. I heard my stomach grumble.

 _I haven't been able to have breakfast all day! Good thing I brought along some food! I'm going to need energy for what I'm about to do._

As I unwrapped a small ration of hardtack and salted pork, I heard a small rumbling from the bushes nearby, and before I could react, a small red blur rushed itself to me. I blinked, and I was face to face with Matthew the thief, with his sword drawn. I raised my hands above my head.

"Matthew?! What are you doing here?" I asked.

"I could ask the same about you Azazel." he responded.

I felt a sting of anger. I held back the urge to insult the thief.

"Don't call me that. I detest that name." I calmly replied.

Matthew eyed me closely, and as I looked around for the others, I realized that if they were here, I surely would've heard Serra's shrieks by now. She's not exactly the most stealthy of people. I breathed a sigh of relief.

"You...came alone?" I asked.

Matthew nodded, "Yes, I'm an hour's march ahead of the group."

 _Alone? Why would you come here alone?_

I asked, "Why did you come?"

Matthew inched closer, "My employer doesn't approve to someone like you wandering in the Lycian wilderness."

"You're employer? Wouldn't that be Lyn?"

Matthew snickered, "I figured you would've known by now, my allegiance isn't to her, but to someone else who has a stake in this."

 _A stake? Have we been pawns this whole time?_

"I wouldn't worry about her safety, however. It's to our interest that she takes the throne."

I eyed my tome that was a few feet away. I could try to grab it...but Matthew was too fast. He'd cut me down before then.

"So...are you just going to kill me?" I asked.

"I'm more concerned about your plans."

 _My plans?_

"Although I've only known you for a small amount of time, I get the gist that you might not be that bad of a guy. Even if you did kill all those people, your attitude is so different from that monster...that my employers are a tad bit interested in you. So tell me, Mark, what are you planning on doing? Why are you headed towards Castle Caelin?"

I said, "I plan on taking care of some unfinished business."

He raised his brow, "Being?"

I gave a sly smile, "I think you know what I mean."

Matthew laughed, "I knew you had it in you Mark! Always one to finish a job aren't you!"

He sheathed his sword and extended his hand to help me onto my feet. I accepted.

"I'd stay and chat...but I can only disappear from the Legion for so long until somebody notices. I hope you surprise me tactician."

Matthew walked away and began to disappear into the wilderness. Eventually, I was alone with everyone but the birds that flew in the sky.

I took the first bite of my hardtack and tasted its salty interior. Magical tingles traveled down the sides of my body. I was grateful for the shot of nutrition.

 _Don't worry. I'll surprise everyone._

* * *

 **Later...**

The guards threw me in a dark and damp cell. I hit the floor with a thud, and my head dripped with blood from my altercation outside the castle. Everything was so vivid, and the stench of the cell was horrible. Green mold littered itself throughout the abode, and the only thing in the cell besides its unforgiving cobblestone was a bench and toilet on the opposite side of the entrance.

 _Is there really no privacy here? How inhumane._

One of the guards delivered a swift kick to my stomach, and I spat out blood from the blow. A man with a sadistic smile and purple armor walked over towards me and nearly crushed my jaw with his bare hands. He snickered and walked off.

"If that pathetic sacaen thinks one man can destroy my army...she's better off sending a man who can actually put up a fight." He pointed at one of the guards, "You! Guard him until this final battle's over! Once we emerge victorious...we will execute him immediately!"

The man saluted, "Yes General Lundgren!" and he and the other guard walked away in silence.

I took the moment to observe my injuries.

 _Fractured skull, but not much else. I'm going to have to get this mended when I'm done here. For now...everything is going according to plan._

I sat in my cell as I waited for the second stage of my plan to take effect. As I waited for the pain on my head to subside, all I can do is hope that the others would act as expected.

* * *

 **Outside Castle Caelin...**

Fire rained from the sky as the legion pelted Lundgren's army with magic artillery. Swords clashed, and arrows fired as the swelling forces of the two armies exchanged blow to blow. A shaman stepped forward to challenge Erk the mage, only for Lucius to deliver a calculated lightning spell. Rath the nomad fired an arrow onto an enemy archer that was threatening Florina. An axman was caught off guard as Matthew the thief attacked him from the wilderness. Wil emerged from a nearby tree to strike down an enemy mercenary. Dorcas came upon a soldier that was getting too close to the siblings and began to engage them. Serra struggled to keep up with the mounting injuries of the legion, but her resolve proved to be an asset today.

 _I'm running low on mana...I must push my limits! Everyone is counting on me! I can't fail!_

Wallace screamed as he charged over a bridge, "First objective taken! Task Force A push towards the castle! Task Force B stay and guard the rear! Go! Go! Go! Go!"

The path was open to Castle Caelin. If they could take the fortress, then they would secure a strategic victory. Only a trio of soldiers stood in between Lyn, Kent, Sain, Wallace, and Erk from the castle gate.

Kent looked for Sain to pair up, but he was nowhere to be seen. He looked back at the bridge to see his comrade unmounted, and on the floor.

"Sain!" he cried.

He immediately rode to the bridge to raise his friend's head from the fibrous wood. Through the gentle smoke of battle, he could tell that Sain was not injured.

The others followed immediately as soon as they realized something was wrong, and Lyn was shocked to see Sain on the ground, half-conscious, and breathing heavily. His blue face told the whole story. Lyn's pushed away painful memories and focused on the issue at hand.

Lyn placed her hand on Sain's forehead and instantly confirmed her fears. Not only had Sain been fighting sick, but he had contracted the same disease that plagued her tribe. Tuberculosis. She pushed away painful memories of those cough-filled nights. She knew what had to be done if Sain were to survive.

She placed her hand on Kent's shoulder, "Sain is done for the day, take him far away and stay with him until the battle's over."

"What! I can't leave you here! I understand that Sain's hurt...he's my brother in arms...it's our code to never abandon you!" he exclaimed.

"That's an order." she stated.

Kent eyed Lyn and then eyed Wallace who gave him a slow nod. He cursed Lyn's reckless selfless attitude. He carried Sain's body and began to ride away from the battlefield. Erk, Lyn, and Wallace were left alone on the bridge.

As the Lycian summer breeze began to press against him, he knew that Lyn had just made the fight with Lundgren much more difficult.

* * *

 **Castle Caelin...**

I heard the growing sounds of battle get nearer and nearer. I looked at the guard as the initial face of boredom transformed into one of concern. I knew now was my chance.

I began to untie my left boot, and as expected the guard didn't expect much of it. As I took it off, I emptied the contents of it, revealing dirt, rocks, and two very special surprises. Two fire spell pages; torn straight from my fire tome.

The guard noticed what I was doing an began to back away, "You! I thought we confiscated your tome!"

Tingling magic began to accumulate on my fingertips, "You did...but I plan for everything." He turned to run, and as he unlocked the iron door separating the dungeon from the rest of the castle, I unleashed my fiery fury.

 _This is payback for this nasty injury. Good thing I didn't waste any mana getting caught!_

The guard howled in pain as he collapsed on the floor. He moved for a few more seconds until he succumbed to the burns. He was dead.

I took my second fire page and made my way for the lock on my door.

 _No one is coming because everyone is occupied with the fight outside. It's going to take a lot of mana to melt through an iron lock, in addition to that I have to build magical resistance around my arms so I don't burn myself. I honestly don't know how much I might have left after I'm done. Here goes nothing._

I grabbed the lock and fired the spell as a searing hot plasma began to fill my hand. Considering the melting point of iron is 1528 degrees celsius, with about 61777 joules of energy necessary, I found my mana reserves depleting quickly. Along with that, I also had to use more mana to build the necessary magic resistance around my hand to prevent injury. After about five minutes of excruciating discomfort, I felt relieved when the lock dripped it's way onto the floor, allowing me my freedom. As I began to walk out of the dungeon, a young man got my attention.

"You! Mage! Are you just going to leave us here?"

I turned to see a green haired man with his hands pressed up against the iron bars. I could see that he's been here for a long time.

I shook my head, "I wasted a lot of mana getting free, and I think I only have enough to maybe fire off two or three magic spells. I'm sorry...but we'll have to come for you when the battle is won."

He asked, "Will you win?"

I smiled, "Yes...I guarantee it."

The man smiled back, "Very well, I wish you the best of luck in this battle soldier. By the way, the guard left your tome over at that counter over there."

I went over to the half-broken counter with moss hanging off the side to see that my tome was indeed there. I took it and noticed that the book only have 3 pages left.

He added, "Will you do enough with three pages?"

I closed the book as I thought about the battle outside, "I might only need one honestly."

"Why are you so confident in your abilities mage? Do you really think you can take on Lundgren on your own?"

I shook my head and began to make for the exit, "I'm not so much confident in my own abilities. But I am confident of theirs."

"Theirs?" he questioned.

I walked over the charred corpse of the guard and gripped the handle, "My friends. They are so much more capable than I."

I closed the door with a large thud that echoed throughout the castle and began making my way towards the fighting. Nearby, three people fought for the fate of Caelin and her people.

* * *

 **Outside...**

Wallace's lance clashed against the ax of Lundgren. Lyn took deep breathes as she emerged from the dirt having just been knocked down from one of Lundgren's blow. Erk cautiously kept his distance, carefully trying to fit in fire spells whenever Lyn or Wallace was not currently engaging the enemy. Between Wallace and Lundgren, the two seemed evenly matched.

"Enough!"

Lundgren delivered a swift ax blow to Wallace's chest plate, causing him to be launched a few feet away.

"Agh!" he exclaimed.

"Wallace!" exclaimed Lyn.

Wallace fell onto the ground with a deep thud. He gradually began to lift himself up.

"Wallace! You are foolish! You are too old to be fighting me! Just look at you! You're so weak...you struggle to get up! Face it...your good years are behind you!" exclaimed Lundgren.

Lyn dashed forward as she delivered a shallow cut into Lundgren's left bicep. Lundgren didn't even flinch from the blow, and used the opportunity to grab Lyn's ponytail. He raised her up, and when Lyn tried to swing the Mani Katti, he punched her, causing her to drop her weapon.

Erk eyed the situation anxiously.

 _Crap! I can't fire a spell or else I'll hurt Lyn! What do I do!?_

He noticed Wallace rise from the ground. He grabbed his lance and emerged with a fire unseen yet to anyone from the legion. Wallace felt a youthful energy return to him, one he hadn't felt since his battles as a young man. He exclaimed, "I'm not old yet! I won't lose to you Lundgren!"

Lundgren took Lyn and threw her a few yards away. Lyn hit the ground, and as she attempted to rise with her left hand, she felt it give in under her own weight. Lundgren had broken her wrist.

 _Agh! I can't use this! Where's my weapon. As long as I have the Mani Katti, we still stand a chance!_

She looked over at Lundgren, and realized to her horror that is was at his feet.

"Oh? Don't have your sword? I guess you won't need this then."

He picked it up and threw it inside the castle. The trio watched as it disappeared into the darkness of the fortress.

Lyn stood in disbelief.

 _H-How could he throw it so easily? Glass could barely even carry it...it's only light to me. How powerful is Lundgren?_

Erk noticed the opening and fired a fire spell at Lundgren, the resulting swirling fireball engulfed the area around them, throwing up smoke and debris. The spell caused the wind to blow into the trio, and Erk watched as Lundgren disappeared into the flame.

 _Have we...won?_

A throwing ax emerged from the fireball, an ax that had so much velocity in its throw, that Lyn barely dodged the blow. She heard a gasp from behind her.

Erk was pinned to a nearby tree, with the ax having gone cleanly through him at his chest. He coughed up blood, and raised his hands towards Lundgren, as if to hurl another fireball at him. Just as Erk felt magic begin to tingle on his fingertips, he felt a sharp pain as he realized he couldn't breathe. He began choking on his own blood as his head went limp.

Lyn hurried over to deliver first aid as the two giants approached each other to brawl. Wallace thrusted his lance forward into the side of Lundgren, who recoiled in pain. He responded by delivering a kick to Wallace's knee, causing him to fall over. Lundgren took out his silver ax and aimed a blow straight for Wallace's head, only for him to kick Lundgren's stomach, knocking the wind out of him. Refraining from falling over, Lundgren swung his ax at an unsuspecting Wallace who was still rising from the ground, delivering a big hit onto his lower back. Wallace gave a blood curled scream as the blade cut through his flesh.

Lyn removed the ax from Erk's grievous wound, and the blood reminded her of memories past.

 _Fire covered her home. Gers that previously housed her friends, now housed the dead. She watched as a Taliver Bandit decapitated the head of her next door neighbor. Blood gushed from the wound as her father rushed her over to the family horse...as she rode away, she could never forget the cold look of the golden-eyed man that covered her parents in green flame._

She heard Erk choke some more as she remembered where she was. She retrieved her vulnerary and poured its contents into his wound. Erk continued being unconscious, but to her relief, the mage regained his breathing as the bleeding stopped.

Wallace took his arm and ripped Lundgren's ax from him. He noticed that a pool of blood began forming around him, but faced Lundgren anyway with his own weapon.

Lundgren laughed, "Ha! You're past your prime! Even then...I'll still have the glory of having killed Wallace the Great!"

Wallace began to feel faint as the blood loss began to overtake him. As he lost his balance, his bald head landed on the green grass.

Lundgren approached and raised his lance over his head, "Prepare to die."

Lyn screamed, "No! Wallace! I-I'm sorry!" She felt tears begin to develop, and as she saw the lance go down, she saw a small purple light appear from within the fortress. The small light grew until it illuminated the area, so much so that it nearly blinded her. Lundgren stopped and turned to face the light, and was floored when a massive jet of purple flame slammed into his body. The jet blew so much force into the area, that the resulting winds caused Wallace to fly off a few feet, and for Lyn to nearly lose her balance.

As the debris settled, a huge crater appeared to where Lundgren was hit, and in the center stood the General, arms crossed, with his arm plates melted onto his body. His plates had cushioned the blow. Lundgren howled in pain. The blow was not enough to kill.

Lundgren was filled with a bloodthirsty rage, and began charging towards the black haired mage that attacked him. The mage had the Mani Katti in hand, and thrusted it towards Lyn.

"Lyn! Use this! I'm out of mana! You have to finish him!" he exclaimed.

The Mani Katti landed on her feet, and upon instinct, she began to charge at her granduncle. Just as the man was about to lurch at the mage, she impaled the man straight through his weakened armor and into his heart. Lundgren fell onto the ground, choking on his own blood.

"Y-You! How? How did you get out? That sacaen is a savage. All of them are. Agh. The throne...should have been mine."

Lundgren uttered those last words and laid still. He was dead.

Lyn took a deep breath.

 _We...We won! This man saved us! I can finally see my grandfather! I can final-_

Lyn looked upon her savior and noticed a familiar set of amber and black eyes.

She stood still as Mark collapsed onto the floor.

* * *

 **A/N: Ooooo a cliffhanger! Will Mark and Lyn get past their pain? Will Sain survive his bout with TB? Find our next time on Dragonball Z!**


	14. Exile

**Chapter 12: Exile**

 **by SodiumChloride12, derived from _Fire Emblem_ , owned by Nintendo**

 **A/N: Wow...1250 views?! I'm honored. It's accomplishments like these that allow me to push myself to improve my writing! Anyways, fixing all my earlier chapters has been...taxing. But it's worth it, I've been retaining more readership now with the improved chapters. I haven't finished yet, though I think I'll be done by the end of spring break which starts tomorrow. I'll take a lot more liberties with my storyline now that we're out of Lyn's story. I can assure y'all it'll be an interesting read! Enough with me now, enjoy my newest installment of Son of Mind and Bane!**

 **N: Mark finds himself healthy, but ostracized by the general public for his true identity. Intending to lay low, he makes new goals for himself. Unfortunately, he runs into a man with unfinished businesses.**

* * *

 _I was surrounded in white. Similar to the environment I was at when I was visited by Nergal, but this time it was different. I was alone, with no turban in sight._

 _Instead of a blood floor, I was standing on solid ice. But it wasn't just any ice. It was almost like a mirror in texture. The ice chilled my feet, but to my surprise, the ice had friction. It wasn't slippery. I looked down at the ice._

 _My reflection was unusual. Although it looked like me, this version of me had some striking different features. He had golden eyes, pale skin, and blood red lips. My mouth fell open in my curiosity._

 _It spoke with a whimsical tone, "Hello."_

 _In shock, I recoiled and fell back onto the floor._

 _"What?!" I exclaimed._

 _The reflection reached a hand up onto the icy floor, it reached around looking for something to grab on._

 _"Any help?" he asked._

 _I pondered actually helping this...thing. But to hell with it. It's my dream._

 _I went towards the hand and helped him up. As I pulled on it's hand, he broke free from the icy floor and landed with a thud. Although I hadn't noticed it before, he had a black robe._

 _Panting, I asked, "Who...are you?"_

 _The reflection gave me a puzzled look, "Isn't it obvious? I'm you."_

 _"Me? There's only been one of me." I responded._

 _The reflection rolled its eyes, "No silly. I'm just a metaphor that your brain dreamt up. I'm the part of you that everyone hates."_

 _A metaphor. Right..._

 _"So...what should I do?" I asked._

 _The reflection thought for a bit, "Well...no matter what you do, you can't get rid of me. So maybe you should stop?"_

 _"Well, that sounds depressing." I said._

 _"Life just ain't fair. Someone made us do their dirty work for them, and now we have to deal with the social consequences. Yet despite us trying to repent for our sins, and trying to work with society, we just get cast out. Rejected. Don't you think that's unfair? Don't you want to live your life with the person you love?"_

 _It had a point._

 _"Well yes..."_

 _"Isn't it better sometimes to just...not be here?"_

 _I glared at the reflection._

 _"What are you suggesting?" I asked with a stern tone._

 _"It's not why I am suggesting, it's what you've been keeping to yourself all this time. I'm just a mouthpiece for that. Stop hiding from it."_

 _I stood there in silence, thinking of what the reflection had just said._

 _Everything that he had been saying about me is true, I just didn't want to admit it. My life is a curse! Every day I live my life with these God-forsaken memories, I'm about to be ostracized for something I didn't have control over, and turns out the one girl that I had a crush on has every reason to hate me. It be so much better if I was just..._

 _Suddenly, the icy floor below us began to crack._

 _The reflection said, "Looks like we're out of time. Don't go crazy! Oh wait...might be too late now. Sorry."_

* * *

 **In the Castle Caelin hospital ward...**

I awoke in a hospital bed with a clear tube coming out of my right arm. A box was pumping fluids into my body, magically doing so. A draped window brought in glimmers of the morning sun. In front, I laid beholden to an old portrait of a former Caelin marquess. To my left laid a desk with some flowers.

The hospital ward I was in was a damp space. To the distance, I could hear the echoes of varying sounds from within the castle. A small blanket covered my body, only mildly offsetting the cold setting in. The sole light was being sourced by the after mentioned window. My head was resting on a soft white pillow. I looked down my body. I was wearing a wool tunic, along with some black pants.

 _Who knew hospital clothes were so fashionable?_

I picked up the flowers to see a card, it read:

 _Dear Mark,_

 _Hey! Hope you've been doing well! That was some fight you had there. From what the princess told us, you pretty much reached your limit. Used so much mana that you had a seizure and went unconscious! The nurse told us that she's never seen anyone with a more severe case of TMD! She said that she only gave you a 2.3% chance of survival. So much for my employer..._

 _Anyways...if you survive then please come to this village in Santaruz called Rawmarsh. You'll talk to the innkeeper of "Red's inn" and ask about "Littlefoot." I should be in that area for a while, so I should be able to come in contact with you. Then we'll talk about my employer. Of course, that's if you did survive. If you didn't, then please go back to being dead and disregard this message._

 _From, Littlefoot._

 _P.S: I had to conceal my name, you know, being a spy and all._

Matthew. Always the sneaky little bastard. A slip of paper fell from the card.

 _Double P.S: Erk is making a full recovery in the room next to you. I'll let you find out what happened to the other two though._

Matthew was never the formal fellow.

I heard the door creek open as a woman wearing white robes entered with a healing staff. Her unkept blonde hair fell onto her shoulders. Her baggy blue eyes went over towards me as they reflected a careless attitude.

"Oh. You're awake." she said with a monotonous tone.

"Um...yeah. I take that you're the nurse?" I asked.

The nurse was a young fellow who seemed short, her staff was about as large as she. She wore sandals that covered her feet, and walked with a hasty demeanor. Around her neck was a tied vial of holy water. Her freckled face reflected an expression of exhaustion.

She nodded and went over to the box and whispered a disenchantment charm. The box hummed to a halt as I felt the tube turn cold. Without a word, she turned and started walking towards the door. Without looking at me, she said, "You can leave now."

Flabbergasted, I looked at the tube still on my arm, "Aren't you going to take this thing off?"

She opened the door and made her way out, "I think you can do it on your own. There's some scissors and bandages over there. Pull the syringe out and bandage up the hole. That is all."

The door closed with a loud thud as I became the only person in the room. I looked over at the crude pair of scissors.

 _Nice..._

* * *

I closed my hand on the door handle of Erk's ward. Goosebumps emerged from my newly bandaged arm.

 _Will Erk still respect me? Does he still consider me a friend? Hell, not my even my best friend would, so why would he?_

I loosened my grip on the handle, and began to walk away through the empty halls.

 _This is stupid. Why would Erk want anything with me?_

I stopped dead on my tracks and looked at the handle again.

 _Well, I never know. I won't know until I come in._

I opened the door as I placed my left foot onto the cobble floor of his ward. Erk stood up from his seat as he was reading a copy of _Unmagical Forces: A Comprehensive Analysis_.

Erk's room was much nicer than mine, despite the proximity of our wards. A window brought in warm light from the outside, however, unlike my ward, adequate circulation from within the room provided a comfortable temperature. A small bookcase filled with books stood nearby to Erk, with some containing bookmarks. A sofa was also provided, with the cushions showing sign of recent wear. In addition to some flowers, Erk had also received some get-well-soon cards. I felt my heart sink...

 _No attention for me...it doesn't matter._

Erk had a similar attire to mine, with his robe hanging on a clothes rack nearby. His boots were put away neatly on a corner, I assumed that he was comfortable enough with socks. His long purple hair showed signs of a month on the road.

Erk raised his head,"Ah...Mark. You're awake." he said.

"I'm glad that you are as well." I replied.

"As am I." he said.

 _Erk...is glad that I'm awake?_

Erk stood up from his bed as he set his book down. He gave me a hug. A symbol of brotherly love.

"That nurse said that she was just waiting for you to die. I didn't want to believe that you would, but I'm glad that you are here friend."

"Erk…but my past." I said.

Erk shook his head, "You're past is your past. Although I believe that you did indeed do those things, I also believe that you did not do it under your own free will. You see...I've been doing some research lately."

"Research?"

He nodded. He then when over to his bedside desk and revealed a book titled, _Unnatural Creatures and their Mannerisms_. He flipped over to a page and recited a paragraph.

"Although it has only been attempted once, in a time prior to the Scouring, it has been documented that the creation of morphs is indeed possible. These morphs, when created from an expert necromancer, can be erected from a suitable supply of quintessence. Once created, although they can be programmed with a varying amount of emotions, they completely lack free will, and are at the mercy of their creators. These make them the perfect tools to enforce a creator's will."

 _Interesting development...but how does that help me?_

I shook my head as I thought about Rath, "Thing is...that only solves half the problem. That can explain how I was created, and how I acted, but it won't explain why I have free will now. Even worse, people could use this to argue that I can't be trusted."

Erk nodded his head, "Correct. Unfortunately there's no book here that can answer that question. That's why I contacted my teacher about conducting further research on this subject so we can get these people off your back."

"Your teacher?" I asked.

"Oh yes. Lord Pent. He's a very intelligent man in my home country Etruria. He's actually the mage-general. He has friends at a prestigious university." he replied.

 _If they discover why I can be trusted...then these people won't have any reason to ostracize me! Erk is amazing!_

"But here's the bad part." said Erk.

"Yes?"

"I'd take you with my to Etruria, but unfortunately I doubt the higher ups there would allow you to be among the presence of Lord Pent. Your secret has spread like fire. Do you know how long you've been unconscious for?"

I shook my head, "I don't."

"It's been a week. It took me five days to come to. I suspect someone from the legion let this secret leak. In the eyes of the common man, you're a genocidal maniac."

 _Not surprising._

Erk placed his arm on his shoulder, "It's going to take me a year to conduct this research. Finding material like this is difficult, even in a university library. On top of that, I have to draw persuasive conclusions and publish my findings. I'm sorry friend, but you're going to have to deal with a year of hell."

I took Erk's hand and shook it, "No it's fine. The fact that you're willing to do this speaks volumes. This gives me something to live for. I am glad to call you my friend."

We talked for some time until I decided to take my leave. I left the room the same way I entered, unnoticed. There were two more people I had to visit.

* * *

"Are these the rooms of Sain and the commander?" I asked.

A butler pointed towards the doors, "Yes...though I would advise caution. Those two are not in good condition."

The butler and I were at the end of an empty hallway of the castle. Long windows brought in much-needed sun. A bust of a long-dead general stared at me. A portrait of Lady Madelyn hung nearby, and sure enough she did have a striking resemblance to Lyn. Different eye colors though.

 _Hussar was a lucky man_.

"Due to the nature of their injuries, they had to be placed in rooms far from you and the mage. I hope this does not displease you." said the butler.

I shook my head, "No it's fine. I'm only concerned about the health of my troops. I'll be going in now. Thank you."

With a nervous look, the butler bowed and went on other business.

I opened the door to Wallace's ward...

The room was dim, with multiple piles of vulneraries littered around the room. My foot landed on a used blood bandage, and a bone saw laid nearby. I felt my gut drop as I turned my eyes towards the center of the room. An operating table.

 _Oh God..._

The same nurse that had attended to me was standing next to the glowing, withered body of the general. He had bandages all over him, some still fresh with blood due to excessive bleeding. Wallace's chest had a deep cut through it, with gangrenous puss oozing from the bandages. His left leg was limp as the sight of open bone matter nearly caused me to vomit. The man himself was breathing heavily, nearly choking between each breathe. Wallace was on the cusp of death.

The nurse was stressed beyond belief. She was so busy trying to apply healing spells onto the general, that she didn't notice me coming in. I approached slowly...

"M'am? Is he okay?" I asked with a somber tone.

Wallace's body dimmed as the nurse stopped reciting her healing spell. She began to fall onto the floor, and I caught her in midair. The nurse's eyes filled with tears.

"It's no use! No matter how much I exert myself, he doesn't get any better! The general...he's going to die."

 _Die?! It can't be!_

"How long have you been trying to heal him?" I asked.

The nurse panted, "Everyday, for every possible moment that I can."

The nurse's tears began to wet my shoulder. I helped her onto her feet, after which she immediately began reciting her spell again.

"Through the will of Saint Elimine, may the ligh-"

I placed my hand on her shoulder, "Stop! You've already overexerted yourself! Do you want to end up like me?"

The nurse turned her head as the staff began to glow, "No...I don't care. I have to save him. He's done so much for Caelin…"

Wallace's body began to glow again, as the nurse struggled to heal his wounds. Through the hum of healing magic, I heard a soft whisper.

"Stop."

I turned to Wallace's mouth, which was moving slowly through the hum.

"Stop."

I motioned towards the nurse, who stopped and along with me, hurriedly gathered near Wallace. His whispers were barely audible.

"Stop. I refuse further treatment. I cannot allow you to put your body on the line any further." he whispered.

"B-But...you'll die. Don't you understand that?" said the nurse.

"Yes...I understand that. I knew this day would come eventually. I live by the sword, and die by it as well." he replied.

Wallace coughed softly as a bloody spit landed on the floor. I felt wet tears fall down my cheek.

 _You can't die...not here when we've won. You can't..._

"I have no regrets, I am only glad that I have two good people with me at my final moments...tell me...nurse. What...is your name?" he asked.

Through her sorrow, the nurse replied, "Taliyah. What an honor it is to have met you General."

We felt Wallace's breaths slow, I grabbed Wallace's cold, clammy hand.

"Mark, I'm glad...to have...served my house...to the very end...with you." he said.

"But Wallace...my past."

"I don't...care about your past. Before...I was a knight of Caelin...I killed a man. He was my brother. I was...given the choice to join the army...or face the noose. My life...was turned around. You...Mark. Your past does not reflect the person you are now. I can see it...in your eyes. I had the same feeling as you...and when...I saw Lyn's eyes. The eyes...of someone...with a heart. When Lyn...told the army...of everything you had done...I couldn't believe that Azazel was you. I still don't. The person...in front of me is Mark...not Azazel. I trust you."

I wiped my tears on my robe, "Wallace..."

"Now listen here...I...don't have much time left. There's one more thing...you need to do for Lyn...something...I was...going to do...but cannot do any longer. You must...you must..."

Wallace's voice was getting softer, and I brought my ear closer to his mouth. "I must what?" I asked.

"You must...ah...Clarence. It's...been so long."

The general went silent as his breathing stopped. My eyes met with Taliyah in the silence. I took my hand and closed Wallace's eyelids out of respect. The general was dead.

* * *

 **Many years ago...**

The sun hung high in the forest, with the rumblings of woodland creatures filling the air. A caterpillar made a midday snack on some nearby leaves, with the sounds of nature being it's only witness. This was interrupted with the twang of a bow, and the blood curdling scream of a man.

A teenaged Wallace looked down on the bloody body of his older brother with a heavy heart. The trees ruffled as the wind blew onto them. Blood leaked from the arrow sticking out from his chest. The autumn leaves crumpled as his brother reached an arm towards him.

He spoke with blood gurgling from his throat. "B-Brother."

Wallace dropped his bow and grabbed his brother's hand. "I t-thought you were a deer Clarence...I...I'm sorry!"

Clarence smiled softly, "I know...and if I were deer, we'd be eating good tonight."

Clarence closed his eyes as his breathing began to slow.

"No! Don't die! Please!" Wallace exclaimed.

With the last of his strength, Clarence whispered, "No...it's okay...really."

Wallace felt Clarence's arm fall limp. He sat there sobbing, rocking his brother's cold body, until he was approached by the growing sounds of mounted knights.

* * *

 **Back at Castle Caelin...**

I vacated the room while I helped a struggling Taliyah with her footing. She had her arm around my shoulder as I took on most of her weight.

"You've gone and done it Taliyah. You're already showing symptoms of MD." I said.

I heard Taliyah's stomach rumble. The sound echoed through the empty halls.

"When was the last time you ate?" I asked.

"Yesterday..."

 _Yesterday!? She's been running on fumes this entire time?!_

"Go get something to eat, and get some rest."

Taliyah slowly pulled away and stood on her own feet, "I can't, besides I have too much to do. I need to tell the mortician about the general."

"I'll take care of it. Just worry about yourself right now. You know what they say. You can't help someone else if you can't help yourself."

Taliyah baggy eyes went wide open, "Really!? You'd do that for me?"

"Yeah, I mean it's all I can do since you nursed me back onto my feet." I replied.

"Thank you!"

Taliyah turned and took a step forward into the empty hallway. She stopped and looked back at me.

"Mark, your name was it?" she asked.

"Yup."

"I'm really sorry for how I treated you earlier. It's just that I heard everything that people have been saying about you and I...I just thought you were a bad person. But after seeing how Wallace treated you...my initial impression of you was shattered. Please...forgive me." she said.

 _Taliyah's apologizing?_

I waved away her apologies, "It's fine. Really. I don't blame you."

"I just feel like I've judged you wrongly...just know you have a friend in me."

She waved goodbye and disappeared within the winding corridors of Castle Caelin.

I thought about what I had just agreed to do.

 _Hmmm, this mortician. Crap! I didn't even ask for his name! For all I know he could be in some town...why do I do this to myself?!_

I turned towards the door of Sain's room. I broke into a cold sweat.

 _Sain...I didn't even see him during the final battle. If he has the same type of injury that Wallace had...then. I'm not sure if I can sit by another dying person again._

I swallowed my convictions, regardless of his condition I need to be there for him.

I heard a loud creek come from the door as an overwhelming aroma of incense, flowers, and candles invaded my senses. I fell onto the ground gasping for air.

 _What the hell?! That room's smell is burning right through my sinuses!_

Through the corner of my vision, I spotted a black figure emerge from the ward. I shifted my vision to get a better look of him.

He was a tall man, somewhere between 6 foot 2 inches (164 centimeters) and 6 foot 4 inches (168 centimeters). He wore a a thick black coat that covered the entirety of his body, with complementing black pants. He had thick leather boots that seemed to point outwards. He wore a white mask that resembled a crow's beak, and it covered his whole face. His mask had black goggles that obscured his eyes. He had a small black hat fashioned on top of his brown hair. Brown leathers gloves covered his hands, and he carried a long, wooden black cane.

He spoke with an unsettling, yet oddly captivating voice, "You...do you intend to enter this room?"

Coughing, I responded, "I...was."

He took his cane and used the butt of it to push me back, "This man has a case of Tuberculosis. Severely contagious. This man has been, and will be under quarantine for the foreseeable future. I am the only one who may enter."

"But..."

He took his cane and drove it into my shoulder. "Do you know who I am? I'm this canton's surgeon general! I have B.A on Medicines and the Mortar and Pestle from the University of Ostia! What does a simpleton like you know about diseases?"

 _Asshole! That hurt!_

I stood up and angrily pointed at him, "What is that in there?! Incense? What is that supposed to do?"

Flabbergasted, the Doctor replied, "Of course you wouldn't know! They drive off the bad smells! Anyone with a brain cell knows that bad smells bring disease!"

He pointed towards his beak, "Of course I have to protect myself against this hazard! I have flowers stuffed against the nose in my beak. If I can't smell the bad odor, then I can't get sick!"

I facepalmed.

 _Is this some type of quack doctor? Come on Hausen..._

"T-...I-...That is so wrong." I said.

The doctor laughed and opened the door, using his cane to assure that I would not get in. "If I was wrong...then explain how Sain is making a full recovery! My medicines and incense is working wonders!"

From within the room, I could make out Sain's green armor hanging lazily on a rack. A light ray from the window exposed Sain from within the darkness, who was very much alive on his bed. He was eating a bowl of green leaves and fruits, along with noticeable crumbs of bread and fresh meat nearby. Sain saw me, and weakly waved.

I raised my eyebrow, "This is to be expected. Prior, Sain's condition worsened due to his exposure of battle and lack of rest. Now, his young body is successfully fighting off the disease with much needed rest, along with a healthy diet. It's not the smell at all."

The doctor closed the door, "Where's your evidence mister? What's your voice against centuries of established medical knowledge?"

 _Well, he has a point there. I forget Germ Theory isn't a thing._

I realized that no matter what I said, I wasn't going to change this man's mind.

 _Well, Sain does seem to be getting better, even if it's not for the reasons that this quack doctor think they are. I doubt I'll be able to get Hausen to fire him. I might as well leave him with this guy. That suit will keep him from getting sick._

I raised my hands into the air. My mind went over to the deed I had agreed to take on. "Fine...whatever. Um...Do you know the mortician?"

"The mortician? Why he was my college roommate. He's my best friend!"

 _Creepy...but fitting._

I pointed towards Wallace's ward, "General Wallace...passed away recently. Get him on it. I'm leaving. Give Sain my well wishes."

The Doctor looked to the room, and then at me. "Oh? Do you finally yield? Succumb to my intellect boy!" he sneered.

I turned and began making my way down the empty halls.

"H-Hey! I'm not done with you yet! Come back!" he exclaimed.

 _This guy's not worth my time._

I vanished into the vast corridors of Castle Caelin, with my footsteps echoing through the fortress.

* * *

 _Why didn't this place come with a map?_

I leaned up against the hallway wall. I looked at a painting, one of the Hero Roland slaying a dragon. I had run into the painting about six times already. The red carpet on the floor seemed to be endless. The many doors led nowhere. The high ceilings pointed high, but not towards people. The light coming in through the high windows seemed to taunt at me.

 _What I'd do to go outside right now._

A voice appeared nearby, "Sir? Are you lost?"

I jolted from the wall and looked around me. There was nobody to be seen.

The voice appeared again, "Sir?"

I drew my dagger, "Who goes there?! Be careful! I can use magic!"

The voice paused for a moment and laughed.

"Foolish mortal! No weapon can harm me! I am the hallway ghost of Caelin. They call me Todd."

I put away the dagger, still mortified by this supernatural experience. "A g-ghost?"

"Yes. At one time, I was the second lieutenant to the founder of this here canton! The many battles I've fought, how exhilarating they were, now distant memories. Nowadays I just help lost guests make their way through this castle. I was there when we laid down the first stones! So many years ago."

Having recovered from my initial shock, I said, "So...Todd. Where is everybody? Can you take me somewhere to where I can talk to somebody?"

The voice paused again, I assumed it searching the castle in my stead.

"Yes...the courtyard is what you seek. A soul there...seeking your company." He said.

 _My company? He doesn't mean Lyn, does he?_

"Who desires my company Todd?" I asked.

"I cannot tell you that detail. It is up for you to find out."

 _It's obviously Lyn. Matthew isn't even in the castle, and Erk hadn't left his room. Through deduction, that's the only reasonable answer._

"How can I go to the courtyard Sir Ghost?" I asked.

"Well, first you have to take a right..."

The ghost told me very detailed instructions, making sure to include any landmarks that could aid me.

"Then finally turn left on the knight's armor and then you'll see the courtyard door. Make sure to close it completely after you open it. It gets awfully drafty in here." he said.

I nodded, and began to follow his directions. "Thank you!"

The ghost laughed, "No thank you. It's my pleasure..."

After some time, I finally cleared the courtyard doors and was rewarded with the sun's warmth.

 _Finally...it's been too long._

I basked in the sunlight, allowing myself to be immersed in its warm embrace. The courtyard was a wide area with multiple trees, fruit plants, and vegetable gardens. There was also a flat area near the center, where I spied a bird fountain and a bench. The weather was sunny, with some isolated cloud pockets littering the sky. The fresh air felt like heaven.

It was quiet...too quiet.

I felt an overwhelming sense of dread fall upon me. The hairs on my neck stood on their follicles as I looked around me.

 _Todd said there was someone here...where are they?_

"You...you swine!"

I turned, and saw the last person that I had wanted to see leaning up against a tree. I could barely seem him through the thicket of darkness. But there was no mistaking who it was. The one person that I just _knew_ had something me. It was Rath.

I cleared my throat, sweat began to pool around my palms. "Rath? It's nice...to see you well."

Rath glared at me, "Don't fool me with pleasantries tactician. My suspicions were correct. You were hiding something from all of us. You murderer."

I felt my heart drop, and my breathing intensified. "No...well yes-but...I can expl-"

Rath shook his head, he grabbed a dagger and threw it onto the floor. I looked in terror as I remember a conversation I had with Lyn a while back.

 _There are a few ways to challenge someone to a duel. Some people will just declare it outright, but the Kutolah have a tradition where they will throw a weapon, usually a dagger onto the ground. For that tribe, a declaration simply implies a duel that will not conclude in death, but the dagger symbolizes the willingness to fight to the very end. Pray that never happens to you._

I looked at the shining blade that penetrated the earth. Rath's unnerving eyes tore straight through any confidence I had in myself.

Rath retrieved his bow and knocked back on an arrow, "Many years ago...I was cast from my village to stop the burning. I know understand why. You...Azazel, are infamous for bringing down hellfire onto the Lorca. I will extinguish your flames and finally return home. I will cut you down...and fulfill the prophecy!"

 _A prophecy?!_

I clutched my hands on my fire tome and guided my hand to the exit. I pulled on the handle, but to my terror, the door would not budge.

 _Damn! Todd set me up!_

I turned towards Rath again, this time meeting his eyes with a renewed sense of vigor. This was a fight to the death, and I can't get myself out of this. I readied myself and put on a defensive stance, feeling the friction of the ground grind against my boots. For a few seconds, I prepared my heart for the coming battle.

A battle where one of us will surely come out dead.

* * *

 **A/N: Yup, I killed someone off. No one is safe. Also I will be releasing a part two to this, so make sure to look out for that very soon. I'm really curious what y'all think about my little experiment here. Any feedback is well appreciated.**

 **Double A/N: Thanks to the guy that reminded me of a mistake I made. I fixed it immediately, and it should be okay now.**


	15. Exile cont

**Chapter 12x: Exile cont.**

 **from SodiumChloride12, derived from _Fire Emblem_ , owned by Nintendo.**

 **A/N: Dropped this early! Hope y'all enjoy and review!**

 **N: Lyn reminisces over her lost family. Mark fights for his life. Later, the tactician and his peerless warrior consider their relationship going forward.**

* * *

 **Lyn's room...**

Lyn looked onto the rolling hills that dotted the Caelin countryside. The heat from the summer sun did nothing to take away from the beauty of the trees, bales of hay, and small farms that dotted the horizon. She felt as her boots stood on the cold stone that made up her balcony. She had her hands on a marble guardrail that complimented her room. She took in soft breaths as the mineral cooled her hands.

 _I'm here...at last._

She walked into her room and laid on her feather bed. This was a far cry to her life in Sacae. A small glass chandelier reflected sunlight all around the room. A big closet carried all the clothing she could ever possibly want. Her wet hair was pressed against her soft pillow, she had just taken a refreshing shower. A mirror nearby reflected every little detail of Lyn's person, ranging from her dimples, to her battle scars, to at times...her tears. She looked up at a portrait that hung nearby, and looked at a familiar face. Her mother.

Although she hadn't noticed it before, this room carried a certain scent to it that reminded Lyn of her. It made her feel a small sting of sadness of what was lost. She wondered how many times her grandfather had come in this room to contemplate.

 _Must've been often. This room was cleaned regularly._

She wondered what compelled her grandfather to suddenly accept her mother and her family, so much so to set off the series of events that eventually led to them reuniting. Perhaps her grandfather had felt the same feeling that Lyn felt right now. Sadness. Longing.

 _But that doesn't matter right now. Now is the time to make things right. To make up for lost time._

She remembered when she met her grandfather for the first time...

 _Lyn and Kent walked hastily through the winding corridors of the castle. Though a daunting task it was to navigate through these halls, Kent had done so enough times to stave away all uncertainty. Lyn passed by a portrait, one that immediately caused her to pause._

 _It was a portrait of her mother. It felt like ages since she's last seen her._

 _Kent asked with a somber tone, "Milady?"_

 _Lyn took her mind away from her mother. There will be plenty of time for that later._

 _"I'm sorry...let's get going." she replied._

 _Kent nodded, "The Marquess is nearby...follow me. It won't be long."_

 _Eventually, they made it to a big red door that was different than all the others. A door whose sophistication long outmatched any other work of it's kind. Kent placed his hand on the handle._

 _"Are you ready for this Lyndis? You might not like what you see."_

 _A stray thought penetrated through Lyn's heart. What if they opened the door and her grandfather was dying or even worse...already dead? How could she deal with herself then? She's already dealt with so much heartbreak lately. Just recently, she saw Mark collapse into a fit of..._

 _"Lyn?"_

 _Lyn snapped out her trance. She had just spent a hot minute staring off into space._

 _"Y-Yes of course Kent. Open the door please."_

 _Kent opened the door slowly as it's greasy joints sliced silently through the air. The duo entered the room, as their attention went towards the old man sitting weakly on his bed. He was covered in thick sheets, a hindrance in this summer heat. The lightly furnished room had a bedside table that contained a glass of water. A window let in much needed circulation._

 _Kent immediately took a knee, "Milord. I present to you Lyndis, daughter of Madelyn."_

 _Marquess Hausen looked at the duo, taking a moment to believe who was before him. He smiled, and felt a weight be lifted from his shoulders._

 _"Lyndis? By my years...come here my child!" he said._

 _Time seemed to slow down. Everything that she had worked towards, all the atrocity, the overcome obstacles. She thought of the sacrifices she and her friends made to come to this point. At long last, the months of solitude were over._

 _She rushed forward and buried herself in her grandfather's arms. He was sweaty from the thick blankets, but she didn't care. Kent smiled and walked out the door, his footsteps vanishing within the empty halls. She lost herself with hours upon hours conversing with him..._

She had told him everything. How she lived with her parents, how the daughter and son he never accepted made excellent parents. How it all came crashing down. How she eventually discovered her destiny, and took on a grand adventure towards a land she never knew. All the friends she made...and how they helped her during the final battles. Eventually, they came upon the subject of Mark...

 _"Ah...so Mark helped your group of friends get this far correct?" said Hausen._

 _Lyn felt her stomach drop, "Yes...but as you know, he also killed Mom and Dad, my people."_

 _Hausen took a deep breath, a leaned back onto his seat, "He seems to be a man of many contradictions. Although from his actions, he appears to be a good man. But his record suggests otherwise. Tell me Lyn, how do you feel about him?"_

 _How did she feel about him? It was true that after she discovered his dark secret, she did not hesitate to go to his tent to cut him down. But when she actually tried to go through with it, she...she just couldn't do it. Why? After all the pain he's caused to her? Yet, despite what she did to him...he just...came back. If it wasn't for him..._

Her grandfather had Mark's comatose body sent to the hospital ward with the understanding that they would one day share a sit-down conversation. He had the castle nurse assigned to him, despite her protests. Although Lyn had considered visiting the tactician, she ultimately had cold feet. She didn't know what she would say if she talked to him. What could she say?

Her mind drifted towards the dragon twins that had disappeared. Where were they now? They had vanished shortly after Mark was cast out. Despite everything that had happened, she couldn't help but worry for their safety. She hadn't told anyone about the twins' secret. Who would've believed her anyways?

She felt her eyes begin to close shut. Having spent months sleeping on the ground, this change of pace was something she accepted gladly. She was just about to bury herself within her blankets when a loud knock jolted her from her sub-conscious state.

"Lady Lyndis! Your audience is needed!"

 _Huh? But grandfather said that we wouldn't have lunch together until later._

She groggily answered the door, "Yes...may I ask what for?"

Kent replied, "The tactician and Rath are dueling at the courtyard!"

Lyn's eyes widened in horror. She immediately felt an overwhelming sense of dread fall upon her as she struggled with her immediate emotions.

 _A duel? But...no! They're my friends! I have to put a stop to this!_

Lyn caught herself.

 _Mark...my friend? What am I saying? Do I...I can't waste time thinking about this!_

Lyn and Kent sprinted across the empty hallways, her mind worrying about the countless outcomes of the nearby conflict.

 _What if one of them dies? I knew there was bad blood between them...but I never knew it'd go this far! I have to hurry!_

Lyn pushed these thoughts away and focused on following Kent. The battle between the mage and the nomadic warrior had to be stopped.

* * *

 **The Castle Courtyard...**

I ducked as an arrow flew half a meter above my head, cracking the stone as it penetrated the castle wall. Rath smirked as he pulled back another arrow.

With a firm voice, he said, "One arrow to aim, one more to kill. I will not miss."

I dug my heels onto the dark soil. I eyed my surroundings for possible cover.

 _Damn! If I don't find cover, he'll kill me! Oh why me?!_

I spotted a nearby tree that was bearing green apples. With no other obvious options, I made a dash for it.

"Do not think you can escape so easily."

Crack!

 _Agh!_

I had just reached my hand for the brown timber as I felt a sharp pain in my right calf. I huddled against the tree, and to my horror I bore witness to Rath's projectile protruding from it. I placed my hand on the wound, slowing the bleeding as my senses began to falter. I winced in pain, and couldn't hold back my scream.

"Aghhhhh!"

I heard a [thunk] as Rath dropped the wood of his bow onto the soft grass. Rath began to calmly walk towards me. "Do you feel that tactician? The feelings of sheer terror? The feeling of no longer being control, as the last of your strength withers away? The same feeling that you wrought onto the people of the Lorca?!"

A flashback of the screams of the Lorca invaded my mind. I clutched my head as I sent those memories away.

I replied, "Please! Don't do this Rath! I can explain!"

Rath glared at me, "There is no escaping this now tactician. You will die for your sins, and I will be your executioner!"

I peaked over my shoulder as Rath drew his sword. There seemed to be no way out. I hadn't wanted to do this...but I had no choice.

 _Rath...Lyn...forgive me._

I used my free hand to draw my fire tome from my robe. I began chanting my incantation as I raised my bloody hand towards Rath. Rath stopped dead on his tracks.

I screamed with my remaining strength, " _Pulvis ex igni summam potestatem ades_!"

I braced my body for a familiar purple flame to engulf my opponent. But...as I read the last word of my spell, I was rewarded with the eerie sounds of the wind dancing among the trees. In fact, nothing had changed at all.

No tingling within my fingertips. No searing heat ahead of my body. None of it.

I opened my eyes as I frantically looked at my fire tome, as I suspected some type of malfunction with the runes. But to my horror, the tome was completely fine. Nothing was wrong with it.

Something was wrong with me. That was the only explanation. I had lost my nuclear option. I had lost my ability to conjure magic.

Rath stood there for a moment, contemplating whether or not he should attempt to dodge this magical attack. But as seconds began piling up, he noticed Mark's look of terror as he gazed upon his shaking hand. He smiled.

He grabbed me by the collar and pinned me against the tree. He grabbed his sword and thrust it into my stomach, breaking the skin, but making sure not kill me just yet.

He said, "You have no idea how much I went through to finally cut you down here..."

* * *

 **Many years ago...**

Rath sat closely with his father as the rode out far away from the village. His father, the Silver Wolf, chieftain of the Kutolah, rode silently as his mind flooded with what he was to do to his son. The bearer of a grand prophecy.

He remembered what he was told by the tribal oracle:

The elderly oracle was barely visible in the fire. Yet his message was heard clearly by Dayan.

"Cast your son away from the village. There is a great fire that will engulf the world if kept unchecked, and only by doing this will he be able to stop it."

He responded, "But he is not even four?! How will he fend for himself if he cannot even draw a bow?"

The oracle shook his head, "There is not much time. Send him off onto the plains alone tomorrow morning. Do this, and the prophecy will be fulfilled. He must stop the burning."

He pulled on the reins of his horse as he told the animal to stop. No explanation was needed for what he was about to do. He already told his son the news.

Rath grasped his father's tunic, "Daddy...I don't want to leave."

Dayan hardened his heart. This was not going to be easy.

"I'm sorry son...but you must fulfill the prophecy." he said softly.

Rath gripped even harder, "But I love my tribe, I'll miss you and Mom. Please...let me stay."

Dayan shook his head, "You can't...please...you must go."

"But father!"

"Enough!" he exclaimed.

Dayan took his son, and thrust him from his horse, nearly flinching as he saw his son land with thud.

He cleared his throat, and used all of his strength to keep his voice from shaking, "You are hereby banished from returning to the Kutolah! Do not return until you have stopped the burning!"

He promptly turned, and began riding away at full speed. Rath's last memory of his father was his cold gaze as he uttered those last few words.

He never saw Dayan's tears as he vanished away over the horizon...

Rath's childhood ended that day. He would wander across Elibe, begging for alms as his hunger made survival a day-to-day affair. His sacaen heritage made him the target to many, along with scaring away many potential friends. Eventually, Rath began to cope by becoming numb to the pain, with his silent demeanor reflecting his unwillingness to partake in small talk. As he grew older, Rath finally filled his belly, with employment as a mercenary. Despite the newfound success, there was not a day where Rath longed to "stop the burning", and one day return to his village. His home.

* * *

 **Back at the Courtyard...**

Rath applied a little more force into his blade as it tore into his opponent's gut.

I was completely defenseless.

"I never understand why Lyn preferred you over me." he said.

Choking through my own blood, I responded, "W-What?"

Rath frowned, "Did you not know tactician? I remember when I first saw her, how her beauty finally ignited an emotion from within me. At first I disregarded this...but when I thought about it..."

Catching me off guard, he punched me in the face.

I lurched forward as swelling began to cover my right eye.

Rath continued, "I realized I wanted more. I just couldn't sit idly with my senile old boss when a girl with a honeyed voice needed help. I thought I could just tag along and win her over. We were both plainsfolk after all."

He glared at me, "But then I found out she was already being courted by someone else, and not just anybody. The army's tactician had fancied himself with her. Now explain to me...how is some weak foreigner going to get between me and her?"

Defiantly, I replied, "I'm not weak."

He applied more force into the blunt blade, taking relish in my pain.

"Do not talk unless I tell you to. I always suspected there was something suspicious about you tactician. How does somebody just suddenly appear unconscious in the plains? I was almost relieved when I discovered your involvement in the Lorca massacre."

The bottom half of my robe was completely drenched in my blood.

"I'm going to make sure you feel the maximum amount of pain possible. Maybe then you'll finally feel a taste of what the Lorca had to suffer. After that, I'll kill you. Then I'll take Lyn and finally go home. Thanks to you, I can kill two birds with one stone."

 _Lyn? She'd never go out with him! Unless he...no I won't let him!_

I used my left hand to draw the dagger that I had hidden within my cloak. I used the last of my strength to swing for his head...

Rath caught my arm effortlessly. He locked his eyes with me as I looked on in horror.

"You played your hand too late tactician. Tell me...have you been holding back?"

It was true. I had never had the intent to hurt Rath from the very beginning. I didn't want the duel, much less with one of my own soldiers. I had refrained from using magic for that very reason, only to attempt to use it the moment I realized that I was fighting for my life. I was so used to relying on magic, that I had forgotten about my dagger, only to expose my wild card when it was too late. Now, the world around me began to feel numb as I bled out.

"You'll pay for your foolishness." said Rath.

Rath took my dagger and delivered a deep cut across my face. Luckily for me, I was so delirious that I did not feel any further pain.

Rath took a deep breath, "I think you've lived long enough. Prepare to meet your ma-"

I heard a strong voice erupt nearby, "Halt!"

I don't remember much after this. I felt the sword in my stomach get pulled out as I fell onto the floor. I heard a clash of weapons, and felt a comforting force take hold of me. I heard countless mutters of my name as everything went black.

* * *

Kent's lance collided with Rath's bloody sword. Kent looked back at Lyn who was rocking Mark's limp body.

Lyn's wet tears fell onto Mark, "Someone bring the nurse! Please!"

A bustling noise began to fill the air as multiple guards, medical personnel, and eyewitnesses began to occupy the courtyard.

"Bloodshed in the capital! At arms troops!" shouted a lieutenant.

A maid stood at a window overlooking the area, "It was that man over there that started this! The man with the sword! He started it all!"

Taliyah rushed in with her staff as the Doctor lagged behind. She pushed hair away from her face as the wind picked up. There was residual bread crumbs on her white robe.

"Doctor Swift! Your talents are needed immediately. Please do not delay!" she said.

Doctor Swift found it very hard to breathe under his suit on the run, but he persevered.

"I'm on my way Taliyah, calm down. I'm trying my best here." he replied.

Taliyah gave a look to the Doctor that frightened him, "Try harder."

Rath rapidly found himself surrounded by foes and former friends.

Kent looked at Wil who was perched on a tree. He had an arrow aimed straight for Rath's heart. Florina was cautiously on standby on top of a nearby tower. Kent and about a dozen guards had the nomadic warrior surrounded.

Kent ordered, "Stand down Rath. It's over."

Rath did not keep his eyes off of the red knight, "You understand what that monster has done, yet here you are, defending him."

Kent replied, "It is not my duty to judge his ethical character. What _is_ my job is to enforce the law. All duels inside Castle Caelim are illegal. I will not rest until you are behind bars!"

He dug his heels in the dirt and prepared for a last stand. There were many things much worse than death.

He was caught off guard when a soft voice resonated nearby, "Rath. Why are you doing this?"

Lyn gently made her way through the crowd of steel. Her clothes were full of Mark's blood, and her hands were marked with the crimson substance.

Kent extended his arm in front of her. "You must stay back milady! This man is dangerous."

Lyn ignored him, which was unusual since Lyn never did anything to suggest a hint of disrespect.

The sight of her made Rath's numb heart skip a beat.

She said, "Have you forgotten who you are? Where you're from? A plainsman always gives his opponent a fair fight..."

She pointed towards the glowing, bloody body of Mark.

" _This_ was not a fair fight! How dare you call yourself a son of Hanon!"

Rath took a step back as his mind went into shambles.

It was true. It was one of the core principles of his culture that opponents must be guaranteed a fair fight. In his quest to fulfill his prophecy, he allowed himself to stray from his ideals.

In fact...had he fulfilled his prophecy at all? He had done this whole thing with the assumption that he was to "stop the burning" yet...

Mark hadn't thrown any flames at him. He hadn't conjured any magic at all. In his most desperate time of need, he was unable to engulf him with fire. How could he stop the burning, if there was no burning from this man to begin with? Had he attacked the wrong man? He had always assumed it was Mark, with his involvement in the Lorcan Massacre, along with his utilization of fire magic.

 _No...it must be him! I can't be anyone else...unless._

Was there some higher power at play here? He focused on the prophecy directly.

 _Stop the burning._

Burning. It suggests something that was ongoing. That prophecy was recited over fifteen years ago...

Rath suddenly came within a cruel realization.

 _The Lorcan Massacre was two years ago...and the prophecy was made fifteen years ago. I had to stop a "current" burning...not a future one._

Rath's arms began to shake. He dropped his sword and fell onto his knees. He felt grass spurs dig into his skin.

 _Mark held back on me, while I went all out. Sure he sinned all those years ago...but his current actions don't suggest that he has malicious intent. Have I...misjudged him?_

Rath raised his hands, making his torn gloves visible to everyone.

He cleared his throat, and said calmly, "I surrender."

Kent's sword shined in the sun as he pointed it towards Rath, "Men! Seize him!"

As the guards apprehended Rath, Taliyah and the Doctor came upon Mark's body.

A worried Taliyah sighed, "But he was just okay an hour ago."

The Doctor unscrewed the tip of his cane to reveal a small healing crystal. The red crystal began to shine in the sunlight. "Don't just stand there! Help me deliver first aid!"

"My apologies!" she replied. Her staff's healing crystal began to shine as well.

The duo frantically began to work on mending his wounds. After it was all said and done, Rath was thrown in jail. He would receive a court sentence the following morning. As for Mark, he laid quietly in his old hospital ward, as he waited for his new wounds to heal.

* * *

 **The following afternoon...**

I awoke to an immediate feeling of deja vu. My robe was stripped from my person and hung neatly on a nearby clothes rack. My current outfit was the familiar black pants and white tunic. A magical box hummed nearby as it pumped fluids into my veins.

But this time was different. A familiar green nomad was praying silently by my bedside. Along with me, she also had a different outfit. Although she usually sported her blue nomadic dress, this time around she wore an outfit more reflecting of her Lycian heritage. She wore a modest green blouse, whose bright colors complimented her hair. She also had a navy blue skirt, residual evidence of her old colors. Although the design was indeed modest...I just couldn't help but notice something.

 _Her curves. Has she always looked like a goddess? And her face..._

I felt my heart race as my eyes traveled onto her-

 _Shit! What the hell am I thinking?_

I banished those shameful thoughts to the inner depths of my mind.

I realized that we had matching bandages on our arms, one on my left, and one on her right.

 _I wonder why?_

Lyn opened her eyes from her praying posture, and they rested on me.

She stood up, "Mark? You're awake!"

I replied with a soft tone, "Yeah...just like the time we met huh?"

She smiled at that remark, her eyes bright like the sun, "Yeah...it seems you tend to go to sleep quite a bit."

 _Well, she ain't wrong about that. What is this? Knockout number three? Four? I've lost count by now._

I shrugged my shoulders, "Danger always seems to find a way."

We laughed at that, our laughter filled the room with life.

She grabbed my hand and checked my pulse, "Do you feel alright?"

I pointed towards her bandage, "Forget about me...are _you_ alright? Did you get hurt?"

"Well no. You see, the Doctor saw that you had lost a lot of blood, and from what he'd been telling me, he theorized that your blood had taken an awful odor after your battle. So he figured that if he replaced your old blood with new blood then you'd be fine. He used the magic crystal on his cane to check and see if anyone was compatible, and well..."

 _His science is sooo wrong. Whatever it works._

"Well what?" I inquired.

She pointed towards her bandage, "Grandpa and I were the only ones that had compatible blood, but as you probably already know, Grandpa is in no condition to give blood. So I volunteered myself. Y-You needed so much of it. To be honest...when the Doctor put me under the needle I fainted."

"You fainted?! You didn't have to do that for me." I exclaimed.

Lyn shook her head, "Well you see Mark...I didn't have to do it...I _wanted_ to. I-I wanted to do what I could to talk to you again."

Lyn covered her mouth as she uttered those words.

"No- I didn't mean to..." she said.

Hushing her, I placed my finger on her lips. I replied, "I know exactly what you mean."

Lyn's face turned red, "Mark..."

We locked eyes. Brown-amber eyes on the green. The room turned became quiet as we listened to each other's heartbeats. Pushing against the fabric of my bed, I leaned in closer as she did the same. I felt her warmth as our lips met.

It was long and passionate. Lyn lost her balance and I felt her weight land on me, but I didn't care. I caressed my hands onto her hips as she placed hers around my upper body. When our lips finally parted, we couldn't have enough. Breathing heavily for air, I leaned in for another as she reciprocated. We enjoyed each other's sentiment company, as all of our emotions that had been pent up for so long were finally tempered. Eventually, Lyn pulled away and leaned her head onto my chest as we snuggled within the confines of my small hospital bed.

I whispered in her ear, "I love you."

I felt her hand touch my chin, "I love you too."

For how long we laid there, I'm not sure. But I am certain of one thing. That night, as my lover laid beside me, I was rewarded with a blissful, unaltered sleep.

* * *

 **That next day...**

Taliyah removed the last of the tubes connecting me to the magical box as its hum silenced itself. The Doctor was penning the results of his "successful" experiment onto a clipboard. The sun was visible high above the sky outside of the ward window. I was listening carefully to the Doctor's "flawless" hypothesis to my condition as Lyn looked on cautiously as my IV tubes were removed from my body.

That morning I had awoken to Lyn's peaceful body leaned up against me. Over breakfast, I decided to give her a complete rundown to everything that I had learned about myself/Azazel. I did not leave anything out. We talked about how Nergal had control over my body, the twins' involvement in all of this, and my memories of Azazel. We also interpreted the meanings of some of my dreams.

"So...a Druid made your body...and then somehow, your body received possession of a soul. Then he used you to go around and kill people for their life force?"

I shrugged my shoulders, "Sounds unbelievable but correct."

"Then during the Lorcan Massacre, your soul somehow gained control of your body and fled north. You got caught in a blizzard, and a shaman rescued you. After that, you somehow ended up in Sacae, and that's where I found you."

I nodded my head in agreement.

"But then how did you regain control of your body?"

"Well...I suspect I may have your father to thank for that."

Lyn gave me a puzzled look.

"Here's my theory: My first memory of when I had control was after I had received an injury to my right arm. You told me earlier that when you fled the massacre, you saw your father injure Azazel with his ax. I think what happened, is that after Azazel...murdered your parents, my soul used the opening to break Nergal's magic and gain control."

Lyn leaned back onto her chair and looked towards the ceiling, "My father killed Azazel...and was directly responsible for your birth."

A brief silence surrounded us as we mourned his loss silently.

I held Lyn's hand, "He's the reason I am who I am. I am forever grateful."

Lyn smiled softly, "I'm sure he would've been glad to hear those words."

"That makes me glad." I said.

I took another bite of my breakfast biscuit.

 _It's nice eating something other than hardtack._

"So the twins disappeared shortly before the battle." she said.

Bread crumbs fell onto my plate, "Urmf?"

Lyn took one good look at me as I struggled to down the dry biscuit.

"Haha! Don't eat with your mouthful you dork!"

"Urmf...Hey! I'm your dork though!"

I swallowed the biscuit, "So...about the twins. That doesn't surprise me. They were probably doing it for your own protection."

"Protection?" she inquired.

I nodded my head, "I'm sure of it. The Black Fang are currently trying to hunt them down. Even in a castle like this...an assassin wouldn't have any trouble getting in. Actually...they're after me too."

Lyn gave me a worried expression, "You too?"

"You see, I'm not exactly on good terms with Nergal at the moment. I wouldn't doubt it if he had an assassin on their way right now. Lyn...we have to talk about something..."

* * *

Kent held the door of the marquesses' chamber open as I went in. Lord Hausen was sitting on a nearby couch, having finally regained enough strength to leave his bed. I heard the door close with a loud slam as Lord Hausen was granted my sole audience that he desired.

He spoke with a deep voice, "Hello Mark."

I felt my heart sink.

 _Was this the equivalent to meeting someone's father? It sure does feel like it._

Keeping my composure, I responded, "Hello Lord Hausen."

Taking a sip of his tea, he said, "You can call me Hausen. From what my granddaughter's been telling me, you two haven't been relating to each other in terms of titles. I will do the same."

 _Seems like a pretty chill dude._

"Care for a cup of tea? It's green tea imported from Kafti."

Taking a cup, I replied, "You are too kind."

Hausen pointed towards a nearby chair, "Here, take a seat, we have much to discuss."

Taking a seat, we began talking about subjects such as the geopolitical situation of Elibe, and how the economy has been behaving.

"The gold trade has always been lackluster. There's so much of it that gold doesn't really carry the value that it used to. However, I hear that silver is at a premium."

The green tea really softened my initial anxiety, I said, "Interesting."

"So tell me more about your magic abilities."

My stomach turned. Although I had already told Lyn and Erk about my issue, I hadn't told anyone else out of fear that my new vulnerability could be used against me.

 _It's safe to tell him though. I trust him._

My mind went back towards the final battle with Lundgren.

 _I saw Lyn, Wallace, and Erk under the mercy of that brute. Out of desperation, I called on my final mana reserves and felt a brutal flame leave my fingertips as my eyes glowed purple. I dug my heels into the ground as the force of the blast propelled him to it. When the dust finally settled, I spotted Lyn's Mani Katti laying on the floor. I remembered what the priest had told us earlier._

 _"The sword does not answer to those who desire it for its power. It only calls out to souls without wanting."_

 _To hell with it I thought._

 _Although my strength was already depleted, I ran towards the sword and grabbed it by its hilt. To my surprise, the blade felt as light as a feather._

 _There was no time to spend pondering on this. I chucked the sword as far as_ I _could towards Lyn..._

"I lost my ability to conjure magic. I suspect it was because I pushed myself too far when I unleashed my power on Lundgren." I said.

"Well, I'm terribly sorry about that. If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't have a granddaughter right now." he replied.

Shaking my head, I said, "No apologies needed. I have no regrets."

Our conversation eventually came towards the subject of my future.

"What do you plan on doing now tactician?" he inquired.

"I talked to Lyn about this already, but I'll be leaving tomorrow morning."

"Hm? Why so?" he asked.

"Thing is, I'm a wanted man. The Black Fang are out for my head. On top of that, I'd like to go to a place where I think I can get help for my recurring memories. There's a lot of stuff that I need to do before I feel like I'm no longer a danger to you or your daughter."

Hausen nodded his head, "Are you sure about that? Surely you'd be safer here under the guard of my castle than wandering around Elibe."

"That's just the thing. If I stay here, then there's a guarantee that the Black Fang will know of my location 100% of the time. Even if they can't get me, it won't stop them from trying to get you or Lyn. I think it's better if I went on my way."

Seeing that he couldn't change my mind, he relented, "What can we do for you?"

"I'd like some type of disguise. In addition to keeping away the Black Fang, this will prevent my ostracism. With the gossip being that I'm Azazel, my eyes are a dead giveaway and will make me a target wherever I go."

Hausen took a nearby notepad and wrote something on it, "I have a contact that makes really good masks if that suits you. I can have it tp where it covers your whole face."

"Thank you!"

We talked some more as the minutes turned into hours. Eventually, I took my leave as I elected to spend my last few waking hours with the company of my favorite sacaen princess.

* * *

 **The following morning...**

Erk, Kent, Florina, Wil, and Taliyah all hung around the gate of Castle Caelin. The early morning sun had just risen, and I stood nearby with my new outfit.

I had discarded my old green robe. Starting from the bottom, I had new combat boots that were more suited for the mountain/prairie terrain that I had familiarized myself with. I had navy blue wool pants that allowed my legs to breathe more, in addition to being more water/fireproof. A small black leather belt held my woolen additions up. I had a large, purple woolen cloth wrapped around my waist as well. This cloth worked as a utility belt, carrying many of my provisions and tomes, along with doubling as a scabbard for my dagger. I had a woolen navy blue tunic as my top, with another long piece of purple cloth serving as my hood, while leaving enough material for a scarf if it was necessary. Above my bare arms was a pair of leather gloves, which were necessary for the new weapon I was to wield...

Lyn arrived with my new iron lance and mask. She handed the two objects to me.

"Please be safe. I don't know what I'd do if something were to happen to you." she said.

The mask was simple in design. It was made of a fire-proof, magically reinforced ceramic material. It was white in color, and the design reflected a slightly angry expression. The mask had lines traveling vertically, going down to the slits for his eyes, and his cheekbones. The mask was not spherical in nature, as it had a slight pyramidal incline towards the center. The mask's slits allowed for enough vision for the wearer, while also preventing any observers from seeing the wearer's eyes. The mask resembled a ghost, and it was expertly crafted.

The iron lance was a stock lance, bought straight from the armory. The lance was heavy, as my relatively lanky frame did nothing to help me.

 _I'll have to get used to this._

"I promise I'll come back. I've just got some issues that I need to sort out first." I told Lyn.

I grabbed her hand and kissed her, much to the amazement of Kent, Wil, and Taliyah (We had already told Erk and Florina of our relationship).

I looked back at them, "Oh yeah I forgot. We're a thing now."

"Well I'll be." said Wil.

"I honestly had no idea." said Taliyah.

Erk and Florina eyed each other. They couldn't resist a smirk.

Kent said nothing. Always the professional.

I went over to Erk and shook his hand, "Thank you friend. I'll hope to see you soon."

"As I am Mark." he said.

I approached Florina, who gave me a hug, "Take care of yourself. I'll protect Lyn while you're gone."

"I feel confident that you will. Thank you, I'm glad to have met you." I replied.

Taliyah shook my hand, "My only wish is to have known you longer."

I nodded, "Same here. Thank you for treating me. Make sure to give the Doctor my thanks."

I looked over at Wil, he said, "I never really had the chance to know you well. You seem like a pretty good guy though. Hope to see more of you in the future."

I shook his hand as well, "I'll hope to see more of your eagle eye soon."

Finally, I came upon Kent. He gave me a stern look.

 _Not very warm are you?_

"I hope Sain gets well soon." I said.

Kent silently nodded. I walked back towards Lyn.

"I'll miss you the most my dear."

I saw a small tear fall down her cheek. She said, "I'll be waiting for you every day. I'll keep your old robe as a reminder of you."

I locked myself into an embrace with her. I didn't want to let go.

I felt a small breeze blow north. I knew it was time. I pulled away and began walking off away from the castle.

"Come back soon!" exclaimed Florina.

"I'll buy you a drink when you get back!" exclaimed Wil.

"Write back when you can please!" exclaimed Lyn.

I felt my new boots tread through the tall grass. I turned to see my waving friends, and waved back.

These were my first steps of a new journey.

* * *

 **A/N: Tactician/Lyn is alive and well. If y'all want other ships make sure to DM me!**


	16. Barthillas and Yanden

**Chapter 13: Barthillas and Yanden**

 **from SodiumChloride12, derived from Fire Emblem, owned by Nintendo (please don't sue me).**

 **A/N: Ok, I'm going to be honest for a bit. I've read some of my earlier work, and I think I could do MUCH better. It's been bugging me for a long time now, and I can't keep writing knowing I don't have my best out there. So, I'll be putting this series under hiatus (give or take one month) while I and a colleague work on this new project. I know I've made it a habit to post regularly, but I just want to do what I feel must be done. As usual, please enjoy the latest chapter of Son of Mind and Bane!**

 **N: Mark begins his first test of many. He quickly finds it too much to handle on his own.**

* * *

 _July 8th, 981,_

 _Dear Lyn,_

 _How are you doing? I hope you're doing well. As for me, I long for the day when I can finally see your bright, green eyes again. I can reassure you that although I have run into some trouble, I will not be meeting my maker anytime soon. But I'd much less write about that. Today, in the forest, I made some friends..._

* * *

 **Somewhere near Rawmarsh...**

The thick underbrush brushed up against my knees. Algae covered the entirety of the forest floor, the green substance staining the bottoms of my boots. Sunlight shined through the cracks of the forest's canopy, acting as a warm blanket to any inhabitants below. An albino squirrel danced as it jumped between the trees, carefree to its surroundings. This overgrown path I was using had seen better days.

I thought about an incident I had earlier...

* * *

 **A few days walk away...**

I looked down onto my still bowl of chicken soup, its creamy goodness intimidating me. I used my wooden spoon to poke the white meat. I had gotten myself in quite the pickle.

I was in a farmhouse located at the frontier of Santaruz's borders. It was a simple structure, no more than a story tall, and had chipped brown paint all along the abode. The open window let in the warm summer air, circulating throughout the house. I sat in a simple kitchen table, the chocolate brown seats carrying five separate individuals. I was being hosted by a farmer's family, one consisting of a yellow-haired farmer (Monroe), his turquoise-haired wife (Sarah), and their two green haired sons (Micheal, who was 14, and Billy, who was 6). Earlier that day, I had spotted the farmer's younger son being accosted by some thugs in the forest, and after some "diplomacy", I had managed to return the little boy safely to his family. Billy led me back to his home, where he was immediately swarmed by his loving family, his mother sticking to her son like glue. I began to quietly leave when Monroe invited me for something I couldn't refuse.

He spoke with a rough, low voice, "Perhaps you'd like to stay for lunch mister. The wife is making delicious chicken soup."

I felt my stomach rumble.

 _Beating those thugs up really took a lot out of me...I could use some lunch._

I agreed and found myself here.

With innocence, Billy asked, "Sir aren't you going to eat? It's awfully good food you know."

Through my mask, my eyes met with Sarah. She gave me a grim look.

I remembered what Wil had told me a while back:

 _Cooks consider it the greatest insult in Lycia if you don't eat their food. They work hard on it, so make sure to show your appreciation by eating it!_

A drip of sweat fell down my dim face as I sat there unmoving.

 _Why. Did. I. Not. Think. This. Through._

Monroe began to stare at me, silently gritting his teeth as he noticed his wife's discomfort. Micheal put down his spoon. Billy continued to blindly eat his food.

"Something the matter sir?" asked Monroe.

I weighed my options.

 _There's a chance they won't recognize me right? They live out in the middle of nowhere! But what if they do? What will they do then?_

Time clicked by second by excruciating second, and a thick tension began to fill the air. There was only one that can fix the situation.

 _I have to eat the damn food._

I lifted my white mask from my face, revealing my heterochromic eyes to the family. Immediately, I heard a gasp from Sarah, and I felt the tension double. Monroe and I locked eyes as we were unsure of the other's next moves.

Billy blurted out, "Wow! Where'd you get that scar from?"

Monroe hushed his son, "Quiet son."

He motioned over at his worried wife, "Sarah, I want you to go downstairs with the kids."

Billy frowned, "But why father? What's wrong?"

Monroe didn't answer. I didn't move a muscle as the room cleared out, and the farmer and I were the alone in the kitchen.

Another gust of wind blew in from the outside, the heat only adding to my anxiety. I cleared my throat, "I don't mean any har-"

With a stern voice, he cut me off, "Leave. Now. Never come back."

Silently, I rose up from my chair and began making for the exit nearby. I grabbed my lance which was by the coat rack and pushed open the door. Before my boot hit the dirt, I turned and said, "I'm sure your wife's soup was delicious."

My remark was met with silence. I walked out of the farmhouse and vanished into the nearby wilderness.

* * *

I pushed that thought away and focused on my surroundings.

Nearby, I spied a dense swamp that covered the lower elevation. A toad croaked as it steered clear from a preying crocodile. A murky fluid surrounded the bog, and the complimenting fog resembled smog. The stench reeked of death, and I coughed as the odor penetrated my sinuses. I covered my mouth with a makeshift bandana and continued to traverse through the forest.

I used my lance to cut through the thick vegetation. The thick vines, grasses, and shrubs were cut through like butter. I felt puddles of sweat develop around my body. As time dragged on, my muscles ached with continued use of the heavy object.

 _Man...those knights made it seem so easy._

Thunk!

I had inserted my lance into a dead log. The giant lifeless object blocked my path. I implanted my lance onto the moist dirt and tried to lift it. I groaned as I realized that I'll be spending the next few hours trying to move this thing.

I dug into my cloth-sack to receive my gold pocket watch. The glimmer created from the light above reflected into the darkness of the bog nearby.

 _Noon..._

Off the corner of my eye, something metallic reflected back.

I ducked as a cleaver dug itself into the dead log. My breaths became quick and anxious as I looked back at the glowing green eyes buried within the bog. I gave an awkward smile.

 _Green eyes? It's probably evil. If it's only one, I can totally take it._

A flurry of green eyes illuminated the swamp. I dropped my smile as a horde of murky humanoid beasts slowly erupted from the water. They had green, pale skin, and...

 _Oh my God..._

They had no eyes. Just a dim green entrance into the innards of the beasts cranium. Maggots crawled all around where the eyeballs formerly laid. The beasts' rotting flesh exposed muscle matter and bare organs. All contained clothes resembling peasants.

The lead walker had parasites crawling on its open tongue. It lurched forward as it cleared the murky waters. I took a step back as more and more green eyes illuminated the surrounding bog. It must've been at least fifty...

I froze.

 _The world around me morphed as those green eyes transformed into open flames. I found myself in a familiar place. Lyn's village. The rotting corpses resembled the dead of the Lorca. There were so many...just like now. I felt my hands shake as a thought horrified me. What if these were the dead coming back to exact revenge?_

The memory of Lyn's smiling face snapped me out of it. Rationality returned to me.

 _That's impossible. We're all the way in Lycia! These have to come from a different source._

The walker groaned. It's still intact vocal cords bellowed a dreadful sound. It resembled a war cry.

They quickly began to fill the area surrounding my path. With a quick grab, I retrieved my lance from the wet soil. I ran and began to retrace my steps...

The beasts gave a blood-curdling screech. I stood my ground as they broke out into a run. The lead walker was the first to come within my reach, its green eyes penetrating through any confidence that I had within myself.

Instinctively, I thrust my lance into its skull. Its frail cranium disintegrated within the impact of my weapon's tip. The green light from its eyes dimmed. I looked up as the rest of its comrades came within reach...

I went into a frenzy. With a brutal swing, my lance felled two walkers, decapitating the duo. With a swift thrust, my lance impaled straight through a walker. Its eyes locked with mine as it traveled up the shaft of my lance.

 _Ah...so a headshot will do it._

Thinking quickly, I drew my dagger and inserted it into its skull. Taking my lance with it, it leaned back as it fell onto the ground. I was now without my primary weapon.

In that window of confusion, a walker flailed its arms and delivered a shallow cut onto my left arm. I dodged the next blow and used the hilt of my blade to crush its skull. But it was in vain. The bulk of the horde descended on me. I delivered blow after blow, but I found myself overwhelmed. I was pinned against a tree as a walker began to lurch its teeth into my neck...

 _Is this how I'm going to die? Not like this...I have so much to live for..._

I closed my eyes and awaited my fate.

I was interrupted by a deep commanding voice: "Fellbringer! Give me strength!"

My sight was blinded by a lightning bolt descending from the sky. The canopy of the trees had their leaves move with the resulting updraft. The land beneath me moved as the force launched me twenty meters into the air. I landed with a splash as I landed into the swamp below.

Getting up, I wiped the mud away from my eyes. I spied my savior as he threw himself into the hoard, his mighty golden hammer sending enemies launching as if they were a tenth of their weight. He was a robust fellow. Standing at about 6 feet (182 cm), he towered over the walkers, myself included. He had moppy brown hair complimenting his modest beard. He was heavily armored, and his yellow armor was an artistic masterpiece. The sign of Elimine anointed the center of his breastplate, with the symbol of a house of unknown origin decorating his gauntlets. His leather gloves were reinforced with thick steel, possibly to absorb some of the knockback of using such a powerful weapon. His combat boots showed wear and tear, evidence of long days on the road. His hammer was equally impressive, with runes imprinted all over it, and it glowed with magic at its head.

Nearby, I spotted a taller fellow sporting black twin blades. He effortlessly danced around the walkers as he used his blades to punish their slow reflexes.

Although he was taller, it was only by an inch (185 cm). Instead of a bright color palette like his companion, he expressed darker colors. Comparatively, he carried less armor, with a dark red chest plate, black shoulder guards, black shin guards, and light steel reinforced gloves. His boots were shaped weirdly, and they bounced with every step he made. His copper hair contrasted greatly with his black eyepatch, a reminder of past battles. His twin blades were sleek, and runes imprinted on them suggested some type of enchantment.

He seemed to move around in the speed of light, disappearing from my eye occasionally. He was comparable in speed to Lyn.

A walker lurched from behind the yellow knight, and I heard the armored fellow exclaim, "Yanden! Cover my six!"

Yanden cut down the beast within the split of a second, and it fell onto the ground.

"These beasts are busy work for me Barthillas." he said.

I heard a groan nearby.

I shifted my body as a still-alive walker lurked towards me in the water. I tried to run away, but I was bogged down by the swamp. I searched my body for my dagger, but no avail. I had dropped it during the earlier excursion.

 _Who knows where it is now._

The walker grabbed my leg and dug its claws into my clothing. I panicked and used my free leg to kick it away. It recoiled and paused for a moment. I used the window, slowly make my escape away.

Wading through the shallow water, my leg brushed against a familiar object laying still in the water. It was my lance. I picked it up, and just as the walker revealed it's sharp teeth, I dug my weapon in between its temple. Its green-lit eyes dimmed, and it keeled over dead.

I made my way out of the dark water and back onto the path. Using my lance, I cut out stray seaweeds that had hooked onto my clothing. Coming into full view of the situation, I was taken aback.

Mounds of those beasts' bodies laid beneath the feet of those two strangers. Many still remained, but the bulk of the attack had been blunted. I ducked as a walker was launched above my head.

The yellow knight yelled, "Behold my hammer of justice! Come brother, w will smite the unholy!"

His brother rolled his eyes, "You almost hit that guy over there your righteousness."

The knight paused and looked over my wet, battered figure. "Oh my! I do apologize for that! Allow me t-"

A walker appeared from his blind side and grabbed his leg. His brother disappeared for a second, and the walker's head went flying. It had been cut clean off. It flew out of sight.

Facing away, he said, "We don't have time for small talk Barthillas."

Barthillas gave a wide smile, "Of course! Onto the battle we go then! Stranger, I am Barthillas and this is Yanden!"

I dug my heels into the dirt as I dodged a walker's sharp talon. Grunting, I dug my lance into its weak spot.

In the fog of war, I accidentally bit into my tongue. The taste of blood littered my senses. Despite that, I replied, "I'm Mark, nice to meet you."

Barthillas saluted me, "Quickly! As much as we'd like to acquaint with you, it seems that we must do so fighting for our lives! To arms!"

We established a perimeter around a small, flat and largely unvegetated patch of land on the path. We fought the beasts as our weapons tore through their bodies easily. I used my lance to prevent the beasts from getting near us. Barthillas used his mighty hammer to slam waves of them into the surrounding wilderness. Yanden pounced from tree to tree, taking every opening he could efficiently. The battle lasted till the sun was no longer high above the sky, and when Yanden dispatched the final walker, I sat on the dead log and opened my pocket watch.

"What time is it?" asked Barthillas.

The hour hand rested silently at the five, with it's younger brother resting at the nine. The device kept a steady beat as it's internal gears shifted and cranked.

"Five forty-five." I responded.

Yanden wiped away the walker's black sludge from his blade, "Hmph. If we go now we should be able to reach Rawmarsh before dusk."

I pointed at the dead log, it's deathly pale skin in dark contrast with its surroundings.

"Good luck with that...It'll take us a few hours to mo-"

My speech was interrupted when the log with _me_ on it was lifted high up into the air. The jolt nearly caused me to fall off.

Barthillas gave a huge grin, "Has this log been giving you trouble Mark? Let me just move it for you!"

 _How strong is this guy? Woah! I don't wanna fall?_

In my elevated chaos, I caught a glimpse of a flash of white light behind a series of trees. I caught the silhouette of a small man melt into the light, but then he and the light vanished completely.

I pointed my figure towards the light, "Woah?! Did y'all see that?!" I exclaimed.

Yanden and Barthillas glimpsed over to the spot, only to see a dark, dense patch of trees.

"Pardon me, but I don't see anything mate." said Barthillas.

Yanden nodded in agreement, "I have to agree with him on this one."

I looked over at the spot the light had just come from. Had I been imagining things? They say that staying in these marshes for too long can make people lose themselves...

My face went red with embarrassment, "Well um...sorry guys. I guess I'm just seeing things."

Barthillas returned me and the log onto the ground nearby. I felt my boots land onto the wet ground, and honestly couldn't be happier.

"So y'all are going to Rawmarsh as well huh? Maybe we should travel together then." I proposed.

Yanden looked towards his brother, who nodded.

Barthillas agreed, "We should. It's always better to travel with others. To my knowledge, no one's traveled through this path since Winter."

"Winter?"

Yanden replied, "Yes. Before we arrived here, we did some research on Rawmarsh. Due to the excess of water, this path is only accessible in the winter when the water freezes over, and during the summer when there isn't enough of it to pose a problem. Because of that, the marquess will send his deputy to collect taxes along with some merchants during those months. However..."

 _Oh boy...this doesn't sound good._

His deputy never came back. Neither did any of the merchants. He had lost all contact with the town."

I immediately thought of the horde of beasts we had just fought.

"It seems we know why now." I said.

Barthillas replied, "The marquess sent out a quest asking for any nearby adventurers to set out for Rawmarsh and investigate the problem. Many set out, but none returned. Eventually, we came upon this problem and decided to take it up ourselves."

Yanden suggested, "Surely that is why you've come as well."

 _What the hell did Matthew get me involved in!?_

I cursed silently at that cheeky little thief. He will pay for this later.

"Actually...no. Believe it or not, a friend told me to meet him at a bar there." I said.

The group went silent as Yanden facepalmed. Barthillas erupted in laughter.

We began making our long walk towards Rawmarsh. The town surrounded by the bog.

* * *

 _We spent the trip to Rawmarsh in conversation. Apparently, the two brothers are from a prominent merchant family from Etruria, a family so prominent that they were given a family crest from the King himself. How fortunate I was to run into them! In their family, it's a rite of passage for coming-of-age men and women to go on a "tour" around Elibe, allowing them to further establish connections/friendships all over the continent. In addition to improving their family reputation, they get to see the world, a luxury not many people get to experience. The weapons they carry are Fellbringer, the Hammer of Justice, and Shadowborne, twin blades of Darkness. These are weapons that were acquired by earlier generations and have been passed down. Fellbringer is a massive hammer that utilizes lightning magic, while Shadowborne uses dark magic that can briefly render its user invisible. These are truly frightening weapons when under the right hands._

 _They asked about my past, and I just said I was a mercenary from Caelin. I talked about a few of our battles, although I was pretty vague about my involvement. They questioned me about my mask, and I was hesitant to talk about it. After much prodding, I lied and said that I had a terrible facial disfigurement. This seemed to quell their suspicion, and it wasn't brought up again. I hope I'll never have to tell them the truth…_

 _We eventually talked about the beasts that attacked us. I can conclude without a shadow of a doubt that those walkers were the reason that all contact was cut with Rawmarsh. The beasts themselves were horrifying, resembling rotting bodies of flesh, and only being felled with a severe blow to the head. Although they don't excel well in combat on their own, their strength is in their numbers. How easy it is for one man to be swarmed by the horde…_

 _Eventually, a clearing appeared in our path. A huge swamp laid in front of us, with a large island sitting at its center. A city inhabited the island, like a red beating heart in a blue soup of darkness and wilderness. A lone bridge connected our path to this pocket of civilization..._

* * *

Sunlight's familiar warmth filled my body. My boot flexed against the creaky wood. I looked down on the swamp surrounding the bridge and nervously eyed a lurking crocodile. I gave an awkward smile and to my surprise, it smiled back.

 _What the hell?_

It immediately dived into the murky waters, leaving me on the bridge with my mouth open.

 _Did that...actually happen?_

Barthillas raised his brow, "Mark. You coming?"

I pushed the thought away, "Uh- yeah!"

We came upon Rawmarsh's large stone walls. They showed evidence of wear and tear, and had vines and other vegetation all over them. They had not been maintained in months. The only buildings that broke into the sky were a church's spire, along with what appeared to be the village's bastion. A large gate was the only entrance into the settlement. Yanden and I silently nodded towards Barthillas, who confidently approached the gate.

An unseen voice broke the silence, "Halt?! Who goes there?"

With a commanding voice, he replied, "Adventurers! We wish to enter Rawmarsh!"

There was a slight pause, and we heard a shuffle from the other end of the gate. A flurry of silent voices filled the air.

"Silence! How many in your party? What is your business?" he asked.

Barthillas replied, "We have three, two sent from the marquess, and one visiting a friend."

It inquired, "What is his friend? Their name?"

The group looked towards me, and I was unsure of my answer. I thought back on Matthew's card.

 _Ask for Littlefoot._

I cleared my throat, "He goes by Littlefoot."

The voice laughed, and I could feel a tension lift itself from my shoulders, "Ha! Littlefoot actually found himself a friend from the outside? Very well, any friend of that little rascal is a friend of ours!"

We heard the large gears of the gate grind as it churned open. Our eyes immediately went towards the bustling civilization that it guarded.

The layout was controlled chaos. Trees and vegetation were everywhere, but the civilians had somehow worked them to their advantage. Vines hanging off various buildings bore tomatoes and squash. Some of the larger trees were turned into houses, and my eye immediately went towards a large tree stump that served as someone's home.

 _Does someone actually live in there?_

The village was eerily silent however. No traders filled the roads. No children ran in the streets. Many people took notice to us and began to silently congregate outside of their homes, whispering among themselves.

A child said to his father, "Dad? New people."

The father gave a sigh of relief, "Yes...finally. Perhaps they've to come to finally relieve us?"

 _Never thought we'd be much of a celebrity._

A familiar voice came from behind us, "We hadn't had new travelers in 6 months."

I turned to see the guard that had been talking to us. He was a man of average stature, with brown armor conforming to the colors of Santacruz. His skin was tanned, reflecting his long hours guarding the village. His freckled face bore a few scars from earlier battles.

Yanden said, "Those beasts...they've been causing problems haven't they?"

The guard nodded his head, "Yes...they've cut out all communication we've had with the government and stranded us in our own lands. A team and I tried to investigate but..."

The guard paused. He seemed conflicted.

He shook his head, "No it's nothing. It's crazy talk really."

 _Crazy talk huh?_

The guard waved towards the crowd that had gathered, and a formal looking man wearing slick back hair and brown robe broke through the crowd. He had a thick mustache and a scar above his left eye.

He said, "You two are the men sent by the marquess correct? Come, we have much to discuss."

The duo nodded at the man and looked towards me, Barthillas said, "It was a pleasure traveling with you Mark. Hopefully, we'll see each other soon."

I shook their hands, "The honor was mine. I wish you two the best of luck on your mission."

After the trio left, I began wandering the winding streets of Rawmarsh, looking for Red's Inn...

* * *

 _The town was similar to Porrety in a lot of ways. Many houses were barren of all life, and others carried a large red "X" on their doors. I approached one of these homes, only for a teenager to grab my attention._

 _"Don't go in there." he said._

 _He turned and left, and I decided to not ask about what was in that door. At least not yet anyway._

 _En route, I came upon the town's church. The door was open, as if inviting me to enter it. I passed through the entrance and came upon a large gathering of people. The priest was reading some scripture, with the churchgoers noticeably sobbing. I looked at the center of the room._

 _A casket. A young man laid in it. He looked about the same age, he even had his hair styled the same way. His mangled body was a bloodied mess, with deep teeth and scratch marks all over him. They were of unmistakable origin._

 _I noped out of there as fast as I could. The door shut with a loud thud as the parishioners wondered if a ghost was among them._

 _I eventually made it to the town's circular plaza. It was a quaint setting, albeit empty. The floor was made of red clay brick, sourced from the many swamp beds nearby. An assortment of shops and other business occupied the circumference of the plaza. I gazed over at the overlooking large obelisk that occupied the center. The sun's dimming glow shone onto the grand structure, casting a long linear shadow. Upon further inspection, I noticed it pointed at a number located at the plaza's perimeter. Seven._

* * *

I smirked, "Neat."

I took out my pocket watch, which read 6:56. I began to wind my watch, adjusting it until it read the correct time.

 _It's been several months and I've only lost a few minutes. Most will lose that many in a few hours. This watch has got to be magical or something._

After that was done, I returned it to my pocket. My eyes rested on the red-roofed building that stood in front of me.

 _There's no way that this is a coincidence, is it?_

I approached closer and bore witness to the establishment's sign. It had a dancing gnome in nightclothes with a mug of ale. It read: _Red's Inn and Bar._

 _Well, I'll be!_

I pushed open the establishment's green swamp oak door; the sound of a soft piano playing the _Entertainer_ enticed my hearing. A couple of persons, a man, and a woman were helping themselves to a round of drinks near the bartender. By the way they acted, they seemed to have just started. My gaze met with the bartender, who gave a small nod.

I said, "Slow day?"

He sighed, "Yes...those damn walkers destroyed my business. Anyhow, how may I help you today? Care for a drink to distract you from your worries?"

I shook my head, "No, I'm looking for a guy. He goes by Littlefoot."

As that last word left my mouth, the swinging notes of the _Entertainer_ fell silent.

The bartender pointed towards the hooded musician, "Why that would be him over there."

The musician lifted his hood, revealing his long brown hair. It was Matthew.

Rising from his seat, he said, "Mark? I didn't recognize you."

I replied, "It's a new outfit. Besides, I can say the same about you."

We occupied a small table near a corner. A gas lantern kept us illuminated. Matthew ordered a round of ale, to my discomfort.

"Hey man...you really don't have to. I don't drink." I said in protest.

Matthew gave a sarcastic laugh, "Hah! Well you do now, these drinks aren't cheap. We haven't gotten a shipment of yeast for several months, so the prices have skyrocketed. Besides, its the most I can do for you since I got you to come out here."

 _Okay..._

"We?" I asked.

"You see...this place is actually my hometown believe it or not. I got the moniker Littlefoot from my friends and family here. They say my little feet let me sneak around, and although I am very good at sneaking around, I doubt my feet have anything to do with that."

Matthew flexed his size 9 (42) shoe under the table. The bartender brought the ale, which Matthew downed in seconds. I spent a moment looking at the yellow liquid, before allowing the burning mixture down my throat. I pushed back my initial urge to gag. With the alcohol dimming my initial anxiety, we went deep into conversation.

"So after that battle, you lost your magic huh?" he asked.

I took another swig of ale, "Yeah. I'm not sure what happened, but I think after I unleashed on Lundgren...I may have pushed myself too far."

Matthew gritted his teeth, "Well that surely changes a few things...I'm assuming you fought through the horde with that lance right?"

"Yeah...though I'm not exactly used to it. The transition's been rough. I almost got overwhelmed by those beasts...but then I was saved by some adventurers. I wouldn't be here without them." I said.

"Must've been sent here by the marquess." he replied.

Through my flawed intuition, I noticed something didn't add up, "Hey! How did you get through them?"

He replied, "Live in these swamps long enough, and you too will be elusive among them."

 _So he just ran away?_

Eventually, we arrived at the subject of my purpose here.

"Why did you bring me here Matthew? I remember you mentioning your employer." I said.

Matthew placed his glass back onto the table, "My employer is interested in your...talents. A mind like yourself would be in high demand around the world if it wasn't for your background. That's why they tasked me running you through some tests..."

"Tests?"

He nodded, "Yes, my employer does not exactly trust you. So we intend to give you the opportunity to earn it. Pass these tests, and my employer will have you participate in a special project."

"Being?"

Matthew motioned his mouth shut, "I am not in the liberty of telling you that. All that you should now, is that it is of great importance to us."

 _A great project...what exactly do they have planned for me?_

I bit my lip, "I'm not sure if I want to be a part of something this shady..."

Matthew smirked, "Of course, you will be compensated for your efforts."

He placed a large bag of gold coins onto the table. The weight caused the structure to lean over slightly.

"My employer has the power to clear your name in this country, along with giving you a comfortable living. Trust me, this is what you want to do. Do this, and you won't have to travel wearing that mask anymore." he concluded.

My eyes went towards the large sum of money, then I had my finger brush up against my mask.

Matthew cleared his throat, "Or you can refuse. Do that and you'll become a fugitive for the rest of your life. No country will accept you, and even if you somehow go off to some uncharted place, I doubt the Black Fang would ever stop looking for your head. I also forget to include one detail..."

I raised my eyebrow. Matthew noticed that I had a renewed interest.

"Keep this to yourself. If you are accepted for this special project, and we are successful, you will never have to worry about the Black Fang again. I can reassure you that." he added.

 _This deal seems too good to be true..._

I asked, "This test...is there one for me here?"

Matthew nodded, "As you may already know, there are these beasts that endangering my hometown. Find who or what is responsible for this, and put a stop to it. You have myself, the town guard, and any men sent by the marquess at your disposal. That would include the two men who rescued you..."

I thought about the sheer firepower that those two brought the table, and breathed a sigh of relief.

 _Hmm...this doesn't seem impossible._

"Do you accept tactician? Will you help me save my dear town?" he asked.

I balanced the pros and cons of my decision, but the correct answer was obvious...

* * *

 **Later...**

Outside the inn, under the darkness of night, Matthew and I shook hands. The thief gave a strong handshake, making me feel confident in my decision. Afterwards, he disappeared into the streets, presumably to sleep at his old folk's house. I returned to the inn and buried myself in my room. It was eerily silent, with the only sound coming from the ticking of my pocket watch. Despite that, I couldn't rest easy. My mind kept on thinking about those beasts, the beasts that lurked in the surrounding murky swamps.


	17. The Man in Gray

**Chapter 14: The Man in Gray**

 **By SodiumChloride12, derived from Fire Emblem.**

 **A/N:** **WEEEER'EEEE BAAAAAACK! One month of editing and I've added 10,000 words to the original 70,000. In addition to that, I fixed all the grammar mistakes, along with some interesting new content. Finally, I'd like to thank y'all for your patience. With that said, please enjoy the next installment of the Son of Mind and Bane.**

 **N: Mark and friends try to solve a mystery. Meanwhile, the town prepares to celebrate an important holiday.**

* * *

The early morning sun illuminated the streets of Rawmarsh. A postman cautiously made his way through the dwellings that dotted the town, making sure to avoid any house that had a large red "X". A butcher cut slabs of salted meat and hung the product on hooks displayed in the store window; making sure withhold just enough to last the rest of the week. A child somberly walked across the village square alone, his friends had disappeared a long time ago...

A large hill overlooked the entire village. On top of it stood a white mansion, with gardeners hard at work with scythes. The grass wasn't going to trim themselves.

The mansion was a looming structure made of white brick. Its clean windows were a luxury only shared by the wealthy. It had a high iron fence surrounding its perimeter, and rust covered the spiky tops. A tree swing stood nearby, its moldy rope expressing a long vacancy.

Through the large iron gate, the big red door, and the long winding hallways, a large library anointed the building. The room was filled to the brim with books, so much so that a spiraling staircase was built to access the upper shelves of the endless bookcases. Long windows brought in an ample amount of light, but sufficient ventilation kept the room cool and breathable. A large carpet laid on the center of the room, and a decorative table had a potted plant taking in the sun. Near the windows, a large circular table with comfortable leather seats had a series of papers and other literature strewn out on it.

Five individuals were meeting here to discuss the cause of the walker situation. For several hours, Mark, Barthillas, Matthew, Yanden, and the Mayor were deep in the books. None of it made any sense.

Matthew pushed away another book of irrelevant material. His eyes were strained from the hours of reading.

He said, "Ugh...another book that has nothing to do with what we need. This is a cookbook for making pumpkin pie."

The mayor closed his book at Matthew's remark. He frowned when he saw the tiredness in his eyes. When compared against the surrounding literature, his brown cloak blended in perfectly.

He said, "Something the matter Matthew? Perhaps you'd like some tea?"

The thief smiled at the older man's considerations. The mayor had known him since he was just a little toddler, and had always treated himself and villagers like his grandchildren. It was the sort of hospitality that always convinced him to come back whenever he can.

Matthew replied, "Why I'd be happy to. Thank you Wayne."

Wayne turned and looked at his guests. Barthillas was effortlessly scanning through books with a methodical rhythm. I had my fingers dug in my hair; I was long frustrated with the lack of results to show for my efforts. Yanden had long since stopped reading and was looking out the window, his conscience was enamored with a black-haired maid doing laundry outside. A faint smile was visible on the swordsman's face.

The mayor said, "Would you three like some tea as well? My treat."

I feebly lifted my head towards the man and nodded. The other two were too busy with their task to even notice our host's question. The mayor scampered away, and the cypress door slammed shut behind him.

Time passed as we waited for our hours to return. My head ached as I tried to force-feed myself passage after passage of information. I was hit with another of my infamous migraines, and the words blurred out of focus. I was incapable of continuing on.

The sharp rip of pain caused me to turn away and cover my eyes.

 _Damn...this again._

Matthew set down his book and noticed my discomfort.

He asked, "Another one of those migraines tactician?"

I placed my book, a piece about strange mythical creatures, onto a neat stack nearby. I took great care not to disturb it.

I replied, "Yeah...I'm afraid it's the end of the line for me today."

We heard a loud creak from the cypress opposite of us. The mayor had his hands full with a plate that had 5 teacups on it. He gracefully placed the plate on the table as we politely received the beverages.

I put the cup on my lips and felt its creamy texture dance with my taste buds. I recognized the flavor immediately. It was tea made from the famous Furloli plant native to southern Caledonia. Although the plant itself isn't rare, the distance it had to travel to get here must've surely effected its price.

The beverage also lessened some of the pain, although not by much. It was a small drop out of a larger bucket.

Yanden said, "This is amazing! Man, this takes me back to some old memories..."

Barthillas laughed, "Ha! When we fought those pirates off the coast of Caledonia? I can never forget those days that we spent at sea!"

The mayor smiled at the two's enjoyment. He spotted my glum demeanor.

He asked, "Is there something wrong with the tea Mark? If you'd like I can get something else."

I shook my head, "No...it's just that I'm feeling a bit sick right now."

The mayor placed his head on my forehead and immediately pulled it away.

He exclaimed, "Tactician! You're burning up! Why are you still here?!"

I said, "I'm kinda used to it. I get headaches like these all the time."

Matthew sat there listening to our conversation. Placing his finger on his chin, he came to a realization.

Matthew asked, "Mark...when was the last time you've had a decent night of sleep?"

My baggy eyes were visible to everyone. There was no point in hiding them.

I said, "I kept waking up last night...and I couldn't get any sleep. I keep having nightmares...their difficult to live with. I haven't slept well since I left Castle Caelin."

Barthillas raised his eyebrow in curiosity.

He asked, "Castle Caelin? Are you a friend of the marquess?"

I flinched. I just realized that gave away part of my past unwittingly. Attempting to keep up my composure, I made a lie on the spot.

I said, "W-Well, I was mercenary that helped her daughter overthrow his brother. We uh..."

An awkward moment of silence filled the room as I ran out of words to say. All the eyes of the room landed on me. Although we couldn't see it, Matthew was sweating bullets. Something had to be done so I couldn't blow my cover.

Something was done. I gave the best out-of-it expression I could.

I said, "Man...is it hot in here? This migraine's making me feel woozy..."

SLAM!

I leaned against the right side of my chair and hit the ground, making sure to land on the flat end of my arms. I feigned unconsciousness.

Matthew played this opportunity like a flute. Taking initiative, he made for my "unconscious" body.

He exclaimed, "Oh no! I knew this would happen eventually! Quickly! He needs a bed and some rest!"

The mayor replied, "Take him to my guest room!"

He pointed towards Barthillas and Yanden.

He asked, "Can one of you two fine gentleman send for a maid outside? I'd get my butler to do it...but he's on leave for personal matters."

Yanden smiled and immediately made for the door. He carefully arranged his hair to be more neat and presentable.

He said, "I'll do it! You guys can count on me!"

He disappeared out through the door before anyone could make any objections...

I was taken to a dark room and placed on the bed. A maid placed a warm blanket on my body. The room went dead silent as I found myself alone.

Comfortable with my situation, I opened my eyes and observed the area around me. Long wooden drapes covered the long windows, preventing sound and light from entering. With the little light I did have, I could make out a fancy dresser with a wide mirror.

I got up from the bed and went towards the mirror. Taking off my mask, my brown-amber eyes were visible only to me. The long slash that Rath delivered across the side of my face was still visible, although most of the tissue had healed. Unorganized facial hair covered the sides of my face, stopping just above my chin. My head was covered with wavy, thick hair. With everything considered, I looked very ugly.

 _How the hell did Lyn end up falling for me? I need a haircut and shave ASAP._

I walked back towards the bed and dove for its covers. The luxurious feather bed was the most comfortable bed I had ever laid on.

 _Might as well sleep here. I'm tired as hell._

I brought the blanket closer to my person and hoped for the best...

I woke up in an awkward position. My left leg was hanging out of one side of the bed while my right hand hung out of the other. Drool was leaving my bottom lip, and my hair had developed a nasty cowlick.

I begrudgingly got out of the bed and made for the dresser. Looking myself in the mirror, I noticed the bags in my eyes had disappeared. I felt new energy that I had not felt in a long time.

I opened one of the dresser cabinets and spotted a long pair of scissors and a razor. Wetting my hair from a pail of water supplied by the maid, I just started cutting...

* * *

 **Later...**

Yanden sleekly placed his arm around the shoulder of his date. He felt as her black hair brushed against his skin. The maid giggled at this gesture.

The duo was eating at a restaurant located at the village plaza. The owner watched the couple as he shined the many vacant tables around them. Good business is rare nowadays, especially with someone that had deep pockets. He reminisced about when his restaurant used to full to the brim, a time before the walkers.

Yanden said, "You know dear...when we're done here maybe you can take me home?"

The maid smiled but shook her head.

She said, "I'm sorry, but my father wants me to come with him to Lerma service today."

Lerma is the holiest day among Elimites throughout Elibe. It was the day that Elimine received the holy tome Aureola from the Creator during the Scouring. Although many Elibean regularly did not go to church every week, many did go to Lerma service.

Yanden recognized a prime opportunity.

He said, "I'll go with you! I'm sure your father is a good man."

The maid imagined how her father would react to this charming young swordsman. One look at his eye patch and the man would surely overreact.

She pushed him away, "N-No. You see he's part of the militia here. I don't want to risk anything you know?"

Yanden felt a sting of disappointment but relented. The duo left the restaurant but met outside near the time obelisk. It read 11:00 am.

Yanden asked, "When can I see you again?"

The maid said, "Maybe later...but I can't keep my father waiting! He leaves his shift in a few minutes and I want to meet with him..."

Yanden watched as the young lady disappeared into the streets of Swampmarsh. He groaned as he realized he had to return to the others.

 _I have to return to the others now. Hopefully, they have a lead by now..._

* * *

 **Nearby...**

Barthillas, Wayne, and I were walking directionless through the streets of Swampmarsh. We had spent the entire morning digging through random books in the public library to no avail. We couldn't explain how these walkers' origins, or how they came to be.

I proposed, "Let's try some deductive reasoning. Everything that happens in this world has two causes. Either it's manmade, or a natural phenomenon."

Barthillas remembered how unnatural the beasts looked when he fought them. They looked like reanimated human beings.

He said, "I doubt this is natural at all. They resemble undead humans, plus their green eyes suggest something magical."

The mayor disagreed, "How could someone make something so vile? I doubt there is any magic that could produce something like that."

I stopped as I remembered my conversations with Nergal.

 _I made you. Quintessence. Black Magic._

I said, "I-I read a book in Castle Caelin... _Unnatural Creature and their Mannerisms_. It described how black magic could be used to create creatures using the life force of living beings. I believe it was called Quintessence."

Barthillas said, "But that would suggest someone is conjuring up these beasts. Why would someone want to attack Swampmarsh of all places?"

I shrugged my shoulders, "I'm not sure...this is my only explanation with the information we have right now. I know a man who has a history of using creatures like these...but I doubt it'd be him. His creatures are much more human-like. Besides...why would he want to attack Swampmarsh? Swampmarsh only has a population of around 250. It'd make much more sense to attack a larger settlement...like a sacaen tribe."

Barthillas said, "Is the man you speak of Nergal?"

Shocked, I turned towards him.

I asked, "You know of him?"

He nodded his head, "Yes I do. My father had a run in with him a long time ago. It astounds me that he's still causing trouble."

 _So Nergal has a history...not surprising._

I felt like we're at the cusp of solving this mystery. All we needed were a few more details.

I said, "So if we assume that black magic makes creatures like that possible...and the fact that Nergal would have no business in a town like Swampmarsh...then that would suggest someone else is at play. What would anyone have to gain from attacking Swampmarsh? Maybe that person doesn't need that much Quintessence?"

Barthillas added, "Then a local person would be at play. But how could a local get access to such forbidden magic?"

Wayne shook his head, "That's impossible. Only a few people here can use magic, and no shamans reside here."

I considered Wayne's comment. If what he said was true, then we'd be back at square one.

I leaned against a nearby dwelling, sending my weight into the brick exterior.

I said, "Ugh...I thought we had something here."

Barthillas and mayor joined me. We glumly saw a crowd of people began to gather at the end of the street. I pointed towards the crowd.

Asking the mayor, I said, "What's that about."

He erupted from his relaxed state. He started walking away at a breakneck pace.

He exclaimed, "People on their way to Lerma service! I'll have to you three later, I need to go get dressed!"

Before anything else could be said, turned a corner and disappeared. As if on cue, the crowd quickly made their way down the street, quickly overtaking Barthillas and me.

I attempted to fight against the flow of humanity...but it was in vain. I gave up and followed the crowd towards the town chapel...

A man told his wife, "Did you hear that Wayne is actually going to Lerma service this year?"

The wife replied, "Yes! I'm glad that he's finally recovered from losing his only son a year ago. It makes me so happy to see him away from home again."

 _Wait...Wayne lost a son? I feel so sorry for him..._

Nearby, Barthillas found himself in the same predicament. Although we were more than capable of pushing against the crowd, his knight's honor prevented him from harming innocents. He bided his time and soon found himself walking through the chapel doors...

* * *

 **An hour later...**

Behind the mayor's mansion, this was the second finest building in town. Glazed granite made up the floor; so polished that it gave off reflections of the surrounding area. Clean white paint adorned the walls, and a wooden upper body carving of Saint Elimine stood overlooking the parishioners. In front of the pews stood a metal bowl with a flame. The flame was large and hard to ignore, and it was located directly in front of the priest.

In addition to the flame never being allowed to be put out, it played a central part in the Elminite religion.

A priest exclaimed, "May the fire show us the way! Like how the Creator showed Elimine the way to humanity's salvation!"

A cleric sprinkled a speck of black dust into the fire, and a small fireball ejected from it. It flew above the parishioners before resting in an open area north-east of us.

Immediately, the congregation broke out in a hymn. Matching word for word, the parishioners spoke praises to Elimine and the Creator.

I cautiously elbowed Yanden, whom I had somehow ended up sitting next to during the chaos.

I asked, "Um...what's going on?"

Yanden gave me a puzzled look. He hasn't met anyone who was unfamiliar with Lerma.

He replied, "We pray towards the flame because it's in the direction of Elimine's ascension to heaven. We usually pray towards the Creator, but since this is Elimine's prayer...we pray towards a holy site in Etruria."

I nodded and understood what he had said.

 _An interesting religion...I'll give it that._

Not wanting to draw unnecessary attention to myself, I joined in the hymn. As I attempted to hit a high note, I noticed Barthillas standing near the front. His large body was taking up two whole spots in the pew, and the woman on his right was obviously uncomfortable. Matthew was sitting at an area on the right side of the chapel, and he was surrounded by his parents. The trio looked very happy.

I tried to look for the mayor but he was nowhere to be seen. Considering I was only in the center of the chapel, I was certain he was sitting in the back. I wouldn't doubt it if he showed up late...

CREEEEEK!

The large cypress doors that adorned the chapel's entrance were opened as a lone guard faced the crowd. The parish went deathly silent.

The guard exclaimed, "EVERYONE OUT. WE'RE UNDER ATTACK! WALKERS AT THE FRONT GATE!"

* * *

 **Outside...**

Walkers clawed at the iron gate that protected Rawmarsh. Their gaping mouths lusted for the meaty individuals that laid past these stone walls. About a hundred of them gathered outside the settlement, and their weight stressed the wooden bridge that stood over. Crocodiles and other wildlife looked on with worry.

The iron bars flexed against the sheer weight that the walkers exerted on it. It'll break at any moment...

The captain ordered his 3 soldiers behind the gate. With the majority of the militia attending Lerma service, his force could only provide a small distraction while his soldiers attempted to mobilize.

He ordered his troops to form a small wall guarding the main road. If they got through here...surely the village would be sacked.

The soldiers thought of their families and friends that were vulnerable in the church. The captain thought of his little girl that shared his green hair. His wife had died to the walkers last winter. His daughter was all that he had left.

With a renewed motivation, he tightened the grip of his lance. The weapon had seen many battles with these beasts, he had led an expedition into the swamp to try to investigate the cause of these beasts. Many men died that day, and they never attempted another incursion again.

Those beasts had attempted to attack the village once before, but they had enough men to repel the attack from the gate. However, its as if these beasts anticipated that the gate would be undermanned at this specific hour.

The captain pushed away his suspicions and focused on the failing gate. The mound of rotting flesh lurched forward, breaking through the rusty barricade.

The soldiers watched helplessly as the rotting corpses erupted through the opening. The first stragglers were put down immediately by the trained soldiers.

Additional walkers overwhelmed the group. Fighting for their lives, the men took gradual steps back to buy time. The captain dug his lance through the skull of one of the beasts. He turned his head and was shocked as a walker dug its teeth into the gut of his fallen comrade. Holding back his initial urge to gag, he swiftly kicked the walker back, and the soldier slowly crawled his way towards a nearby house. Blood smeared against the floor as he opened the unlocked door and shimmied his way in.

His body would later be found there by a housewife.

The three remaining soldiers continued on their brawl. Another man fell and was mauled by the horde. The captain had a huge gash going across his chest, had it not for his armor, it would've surely been fatal. His lone comrade fought with a limp; he had torn a ligament in his toe. The situation was looking hopeless...

Suddenly a flash of light blinded him.

A solid bolt of lightning broke through the sky, lifting the hoard of beasts from their feet and ejecting some above the wall. A deafening roar shook the very foundation of the town.

"FELLBRINGER! BRING ME STRENGTH!"

Immediately, the duo was surrounded by familiar faces. About sixty men and women rallied around their captain.

I exclaimed, "Troops! Form up and defend this road to the last man! We will not let these beasts terrorize us on Lerma! Show these brainless beasts Swampmarsh steel!"

The troops around me yelled, "Yes Sir!"

We formed a line across the wide corridor, blocking off access to the town. The line was 15 long, and 4 deep. We laid down our lances and pikes in front of us, forming a tight cushion between us and the enemy. The formation resembled a Greek phalanx, and any unarmored walker would become a battered pincushion. Unfortunately, we had no auxiliary troops like cavalry or archers; such troops would be completely useless in the swamp and were thus seldom used.

I asked Barthillas, "Can you call down some thunder again? It will surely give us the edge in this fight."

Barthillas shook his head, "No...I'm already out of mana. I have to wait a few minutes until I can use my holy smite again."

A small drop of sweat fell down my forehead. I turned towards Yanden.

I asked, "How about you? Have any hat tricks?"

He nodded and unsheathed his twin swords, the blades were covered in a black aura.

He said, "I can cast dark slashes that can hit them from a distance. I'm afraid that I'm no mage either...so my mana reserves aren't high. I can only use this attack about eight times until I have to rest for a bit."

One of the soldiers, a man no older than myself, asked, "What will you do tactician?"

I said, "I'll strategize and modify the line as needed. If it's necessary, I'll join in if I have to."

I took out my iron lance and slammed the blunt end of the weapon onto the ground. Although I wasn't very skilled with it, my lance could help in a pinch. The soldier saluted at the gesture and returned his attention to the enemy.

The captain and another soldier were bleeding profusely by a wall. A cleric was busily healing their wounds with a staff.

Soon enough, the walkers recovered from the initial blast and began to swell in size once again. Dozens of the beasts rushed past the open gate, quickly nearing our steel barricade.

I addressed the troops one last time, "Troops! Here they come! Fight for yourself! For your fellow soldier! For Swampmarsh!"

The horde slammed against the wall of steel. Some of the lighter troops lost their balance against the large force, but they were pushed back by their brothers and sisters in arms behind them. The two forces pushed against each other, with no side gaining the upper hand.

Yanden rained down dark slashes into the undead force from a roof overhead. The magic cut through the rotten flesh like butter, and many walkers were disintegrated on impact.

A soldier thrusted his lance into the skull of an attacking walker. Another immediately took its place, and the soldier was unable to remove his weapon from the initial creature. He ducked, allowing his comrade behind him to dispatch the beast for him.

The line quickly became a kill-zone. Our troops were easily able to pierce the walker's skulls, but the numbers seemed too many to handle...

As time went on, our side was beginning to suffer casualties. Soldiers trickled their way to the rear, all containing varying amounts of injuries. Some were minor, and they were able to return to the line immediately. Others were knocked unconscious and were laid out near their fighting brethren. Some died fighting for their village. The line was getting thinner and thinner.

A soldier fell onto the floor, his brown helmet hitting the pavement. A walker was over his body, at the cusp of digging its talon into its prey.

I immediately dug my lance into its weak spot. A motioned for a nearby civilian to pull his body away from the line, and the young woman quickly moved the injured man to safety. As I turned towards the spot that the man occupied, and realized that this part of the line ran out of reserves. A hole in our defenses.

I looked to my right and spotted Barthillas and Yanden manning the trenches. Men around me screamed as we continued in our seemingly fruitless crusade.

I dug my heels and filled the hole. Killing another walker, my arms screamed for some rest. But it was not to be. I was going to be stuck here for a while, whether I liked it or not.

I pressed my lance into a nearby walker, and it fell back from the blow. An unseen talon emerged from below the shaft, clawing at my face.

I barely flinched as my ceramic mask took most the blow. I large claw-mark was visible across the tough, white substance.

I drew my dagger and struck the beasts' skull. I did it with so much force that the walker's cranium shattered upon impact.

Green blood splattered across my purple clothing. The man in my right fell, and another recently healed soldier took his place. Shoulder to shoulder, we covered each other's flanks. I kept fighting and fighting, like a corner rabid animal.

They depended on me, almost as much as I depended on them...

* * *

 **An hour later...**

The sun laid low across the horizon. Hundreds of rotting mounds of flesh were littered across the gravel road. The smell was overwhelming, and villagers were gradually removing the bodies with towels over their mouths. Red and green goo painted the floor.

A makeshift hospital was set up nearby the carnage. Villagers were passing around bandages and alcohol to treat their soldiers; the cleric had passed out a long time ago.

Yanden and I were sitting down against a wall, with visible wounds covering our bodies. I attempted to squeeze my left hand to try to initiate some type of sensation, but it was in vain. Everything was numb.

I made out two approaching figures, one much larger than the other. It was Barthillas and Matthew.

Yanden silently cursed to himself.

He said, "Damn. I can't even move my arm right now. I'm so tired..."

I replied, "Same here. There's no way that I'm conditioned to something like that. I feel so outta shape."

I looked at Barthillas. After the battle, he had removed his heavy armor. Even something like that must've taken something out of him.

I told him, "Barthillas. If your holy smite didn't turn the tide of the battle for us...I'm not sure we would've made it out alive."

He had cuts all over his body. His huge physique had taken noticeable damage over the years.

Smiling, he replied, "It's no problem at all. I live for moments like these. Nothing makes me happier then defending the innocent."

Yanden rolled his eyes. He spoke with a satirical tone.

He said, "Class act."

Barthillas' gave a wide smile. Despite the gesture, it was obvious he was put off by the remark.

He said, "It's a shame you don't have the strength to see that girl tonight brother. Then again, I'm sure she would've been disappointed by what you have to offer."

Yanden felt a rush of energy, but it was useless since his body was unresponsive.

He shot back, "How do you already know about that?! If my body wasn't messed up I'd kick your ass!"

Matthew raised his hands in the air to garner our attention.

He exclaimed, "Woah! No need to fight! Let's focus on the problem at hand."

 _Matthew...he wasn't present during the battle...yet I saw him in the church. Where did he go?_

I asked, "Matthew you weren't with us while we were defending _your_ hometown. Please explain."

Defensively, he replied, "Hey don't accuse me of cowardice. I love this town so I would've joined you but..."

Matthew looked away briefly, he was at a loss for words.

I asked, "But what?"

He continued, "I helped evacuate the churchgoers to a safe location. Besides...it's what I learned while talking to the populace that might interest you. A certain someone had been suspiciously absent during the service."

Barthillas inquired, "Who would that be?"

Matthew motioned for Barthillas to huddle near us. He placed his hand over his mouth to muffle his voice. I could see that he did not want this information to leak.

He whispered, "The mayor. He didn't attend the service."

 _That's unusual. I just assumed he was sitting behind me._

Yanden added, "Now that I think about it...Mark and I didn't see him."

I said, "I heard someone mention that he skipped Lerma last year because he was mourning his son. Maybe he did the same thing this year?"

Matthew disagreed, "That is a possibility. But he was so adamant that he was going to attend this year. What a shame it is. Wayne loves his son above all else. He was his everything?"

Barthillas said, "Oh?"

Matthew continued, "I forgot you don't know. Wayne's son contracted smallpox during an epidemic that shook this town a year ago. Wayne did everything he could to try to save him...but modern medicine failed him. The young man died in his father's arms."

Yanden lowered his head, "I see...Wayne is a very strong man to still be serving his village after all that loss."

It was true. After locking himself away in his mansion for some time, Wayne emerged from his prison a new man. One that put others before himself...and always with a smile.

I said, "We should question him about this anyway. You can never be too careful."

Matthew placed his finger on his chin, "I doubt he has anything to do with this...he's just a defenseless old man. But if you insist."

I looked everyone dead in the eye. Through the visor that my mask provided, Barthillas thought he saw a splash of amber and brown. Regardless, the expression got the point across.

"I can say without a shadow of a doubt that someone, not something is behind all of this. To attack us during that specific hour that matched with Lerma mass is too important of a detail to let pass. We need to take our next few steps carefully gentleman. This force is stronger than anything I've fought before..."

* * *

 **The following morning...**

We had returned to the mayor's study, and the mayor had his butler lay out a variety of books on the table. Today was an especially warm day, so the window was opened to let in the hilly breeze.

Wayne accepted us to his abode with open arms. He allowed us to store our weapons out front and even went so far as to offer to have his maid clean our dirty clothes. Yanden quickly declined that offer, for obvious reasons.

A butler quietly laid out five teacups of freshly made Furoli tea. He soon vacated the room immediately, and the five of us were alone. The mayor smiled as he took a sip of his drink.

I closed my book and looked at Wayne chatting away with Matthew. Wayne could've passed for Matthew's grandfather.

 _It's okay. Just ask the question and we can look towards other leads._

I cleared my throat but felt a nearly insurmountable pit of guilt develop in my stomach. Regardless, I pushed on. My eyes met with Wayne's.

 _These aren't the eyes of a killer are they?_

I asked, "Wayne...can I ask you a question?"

The gleeful man stopped his conversation and turned towards me. The others stopped studying and focused on me.

A small drop of sweat fell down my forehead. I really, really did not want to do this.

 _Keep your cool Mark. Cool and collected._

He replied, "Sure Mark. Ask away, a good host always do their best to accommodate their guests."

I asked, "Lerma service...we have reports that you didn't attend mass with the others. How come?"

There was a noticeable shake in my voice. Regardless, the mayor responded with fatherly tenderness.

He said, "I was changing into my Sunday dress when I came upon an old hat that my son used to wear. I'm afraid...I...I couldn't control myself. We always went to Lerma mass together...and the memory brought me to tears."

Tears began to fall from his eyes, and Matthew extended his arm to comfort him. I instantly felt regret for whatever memories I had just made resurfaced.

 _This was a really bad idea. This man can't hurt a fly._

Wayne composed himself, "I'm sorry...I miss him so much. I'd do anything to have him back."

The room went silent as the man silently sobbed. Barthillas gave a gesture of disapproval as I attempted to shrink below the desk.

Wayne wiped a tear from his face. Whatever episode of sorrow had clearly passed. He motioned towards my untouched cup of tea.

"No...I understand that you have to consider everyone as a suspect...even me. Let's drink up and forget this ever happened shall we? Furvoli is my favorite...I drink it every day!"

Barthillas nodded and raised his cup into the air. Wanting to kill the tension in the air, everyone followed suit. We took a sip of the beverage and felt our anxieties vanish into the air.

The great Furoli plant. Native to Caledonia, number one in calming our spirits.

 _Caledonia..._

 _Isn't that past the strait of Kafti? The western seas...?_

I came to a cruel realization. I put the teacup gently onto the table.

"Wayne...you said you drink this tea every day?"

Wayne replied, "Yes..."

I added, "How could you keep drinking this every day if no traders have been able to breach the blockade made by the walkers? The alehouses are down to their last few liters...surely you'd be out of tea as well."

Wayne was clearly put off by the comment.

There was an eerily silence. All that could be heard was the wind passing through the window. Finally, the mayor answered.

Wayne said, "I had some stockpiled."

Checkmate.

"Why would you stockpile your favorite tea if you didn't know this was going to happen?"

Wayne looked me dead in the eye. His gaze suggested something sinister. He did something none of us expected.

He said, "It appears you've made a smart deduction tactician. Too bad you'll never leave this place."

Suddenly, a dark red aura surrounded the man. A dark magical force flung us into opposing corners of the room. My body smashed into a bookcase, emptying about a half ton of paperbacks into my upper body. Yanden was flung out the window, tumbling into the green grass. Matthew flew into the air and hit the ground with a thud. Barthillas slammed into a nearby lamp, tumbling its open flame onto the dry carpet. It combusted immediately.

Pulling away some books to clear my vision, I spotted a taller, ominous man visible through the growing flames. He had silver-white hair, and his eyes glowed green. His brown robe was tossed aside to reveal hidden black armor on his upper body. A long black cape draped across his shoulders, and black boots covered his feet. On his left hand was a black tome that I recognized as black magic. His right hand resembled a bear's claw and had a red hue.

Wayne spoke aloud, "I would do anything to bring my son back...even if it means harvesting the quintessence of this town. Consider yourselves lucky, I must conserve my strength for the resurrection ceremony. If you four value your lives...leave this town to its fate. After I bring back my son I will march my undead army to the gates of Ostia, with my him at my right hand! Do not try to stop me!"

Wayne turned and levitated from the ground. The fire was rapidly spreading, and he did not want to succumb to a mild inconvenience.

I reached an arm out for him, and he paused. He glared at my face, and I soon realized why. My mask had been knocked away with his initial shockwave.

He snickered, "Azazel...your master inspired me to make these creatures. My tools for ultimate power. Your master...is foolish. Wanting quality morphs over quantity. But he will soon learn that many morphs made with the fraction of the price are better than making "art". As for you...you'll die like the pesky humans around you."

 _This man...is insane!_

He flew out of the window...much to the shock of the townsfolk below. Passing through the high village walls, he disappeared into the murky swamp.

* * *

 **A/N: I'll be uploading chapters on a weekly basis again. As done before, I'll be taking bye weeks during Exam weeks. I'll be looking forward to writing more chapters!**

 **P.S: All feedback would be appreciated. Whether that be through reviews or story requests, an interactive audience helps me stay motivated week to week. Thank you!**


	18. A Father's Wish

**Chapter 15: A Father's Wish**

 **From SodiumChloride12, derived from Fire Emblem, owned by Nintendo.**

 **A/N: Every little piece of feedback really motivates me to keep on writing. We're coming out with a cover soon, so make sure to look out for that. Enjoy!**

 **N: With Wayne hidden in the marsh, our heroes discover a haunting detail. The fate of the town is in their hands, and they ready themselves for the final confrontation.**

* * *

The smoldering ruins of what once was the grandest structure in Swampmarsh painted the surrounding hill black. The black smoke emitting from it made the hill resemble a volcano, symbolism for the disaster that was to befall on the town. Militia and townsfolk alike formed a long train, passing each other pails of water to prevent what was left of the blaze from spreading any further. All that was left of their leader and his past had burnt to a crisp.

The roads that formed the artery of the town laid thick with mud from last night's storm. They were battered with the countless amounts of trips that the anxious townspeople made as they tried to rebuild what was damaged. Towards the entrance, evidence of the large brawl that occurred came into view. Dried blood and walker ooze stained the once gray road. Craters from the two brother's magical attacks had made the area near the entrance completely unusable, and citizens were hard at work repairing the damage. A blacksmith and his apprentice were gradually beginning to replace the iron gate that once defended this town, though the thought of the walker's returned kept them in a hasty mood.

The church stood proud as it always did, and its spire pointed towards the sky like a beacon of hope. Inside its large cypress doors, there were two dozen souls. Its pew was removed to provide a wide open space for its new function, a makeshift hospital. Open cots littered over the polished granite floor, some parts of which were stained with blood from operations. The priest led a team of volunteers to treat the wounded from the earlier battle, while the cleric was busily focusing her mana into whatever patient she could. They saved many people, although not all could be saved. Some had suffered mortal injuries, and all the team could do was try to improve their quality of life however they could. Families were brought in as they watched their sons, daughters, mothers, and fathers die before them. Magic could only do some much to prevent hardship.

The maid and her father walked through the damp streets in silence, and a battered brown helmet with a large dent in the back was visible. Although the maid was glad that her father had lived, the duo carried a sting of survivor's guilt. Her father had fought in the battle and had fallen to the talon of an enemy walker. However. just as he was about to be mauled by the beast, one of the travelers defended his vulnerable with his own life. He still remembered his fire, the will to defend the people around him. He truly wondered what his savior looked like; a mask covered his very face.

The father tightened his grip around his daughter's hands. He almost _died_ yesterday. Although he was an adventurer much like those travelers in his younger years, it was clear his prime was behind him. No longer could he simply assume that he will overcome every opponent, every villain. There will come a day where he will not only lose but lose at the cost of his life. But it was a bitter pill to swallow. He always lived by the sword, it all began at the ripe age of 17 when he first volunteered to clear out some bandits in Santaruz. He had since fought under many banners since then, Ostia, Etruria, Pharae, and once even as a mercenary. He still remembered the day when he came upon this town, and the day he met the love of his life. He eventually decided to make her hometown his new home.

But that was all behind him now. His wife had died to smallpox not even a year ago, along with much of the town. He and his daughter only had each other now, but that could change if he didn't decide to put down his sword. Something had to be done.

The father looked into the hazel eyes that his daughter shared with him. Her black hair flowed with the wind, a mirror image of her mother. This was a decision he would make for her.

He said, "Mabel...I'm retiring. After we clear up the problem with Wayne, I'm giving up this life. I want to grow old enough to become a grandpa."

Mabel looked back at the eyes of her father. Scars cut across the profile of his face. Deep callouses lined the skin around his hands, evidence of excess usage of a lance. His brown hair flowed down from his face like a mop. She felt tears begin to roll down her eyes.

She replied, "Father...I've been waiting so long for you to say that. Every day I've worried that there'll come a time that you don't return home. But now, I know those days are almost over."

The duo embraced in a hug. The father held onto his daughter like she was just an infant, and memories of those earlier times filled his mind. She had grown so much now, and although her mother was no longer here, he was glad to see her grow into the woman she had become.

He had no regrets.

* * *

 **Nearby...**

Matthew's home was nothing more than a large tree stump. Or so it seemed. Inside its small oak door laid a labyrinth of tunnels covered an area much larger than it appeared. In this space, there were bedrooms, a bathroom, a living room, and even a dining room. It was in this dining room where four individuals were eating a home-cooked meal.

With my mask flat against the table, I took a bite of pumpkin pie and felt its creamy goodness dance among my taste buds like fireworks. I had never had something so sweet before, and it was a sensation that I was savoring as much as I could.

The dining room was a quaint room. A large chimney made of cobblestone brought in warmth and dryness to the otherwise damp and cold room. A couple of chairs leaned against the wall, which was being held up by thick wooden supports. An abundance of candles gave the room an iconic amber glow. A large family portrait hung high above the chimney, overlooking the guests.

Barthillas was busily eating a bowl of black bean soup, a specialty in Matthew's family. Yanden and Matthew were busily chatting over their empty bowls. Matthew's parents, Mr. and Mrs. Walker were nearby watching their guests help themselves. Matthew hardly ever brought guests, so moments like these few and far between.

Barthillas emptied his dish and politely stood up to clean his mess. He was always taught by his parents to always be a good guest, and that was an attitude he was going to express now.

Mrs. Walker beckoned from him to sit down. She would take care of his need for him.

She said, "No no no. Don't worry about that. I'll take care of it."

Barthillas disagreed, "Pardon me miss. But I sh-"

Suddenly, he felt a brief wind flow between his legs. A small figure snatched his bowl straight from his. In a split second, the bowl was in Mrs. Walker's hands.

A little boy came to view holding onto the woman's dress. He had mud covering his face, and his brown hair was filthy from days without bathing. He gave a wide mischievous grin.

Mr. Walker scolded the boy, "Sean! There you are boy! How rude!"

Mrs. Walker lifted the boy straight from his feet. Sean squirmed and squealed as he attempted to get down.

He exclaimed, "No! Let me go!"

She replied, "Not by a long shot! You're going to take a shower young man!"

The woman took her son away into an unseen corner of the room. Countless apologies were given by the couple afterward. After that awkward engagement, Barthillas didn't give the bowl a second thought.

Barthillas returned to the table. His stern expression was something to look at. It was clear that he intended to ask me some difficult questions. Mr. Walker read the change in the mood and excused himself from the dining room.

Confident that the four of us were alone, Barthillas cleared his throat. He had seen many things when they were attacked by Wayne, some of which could not be unseen. One of which was the topic of the tactician's face, more so his unique eyes if anything. They represented a name that was infamous throughout Elibe, the fiend Azazel.

He had nearly torn his head off when he first saw his pair of brown and amber. But he was talked down from this Matthew, with the promise that they would explain everything later. There were more pressing matters at the time, like escaping the inferno. Barthillas had accepted, and now was the time to make good on that promise.

As for Yanden, he could care less about the pasts of the people he worked with. He had spent some time as a pirate based in Badon, spending his working hours with men and women with questionable pasts. He smiled as he reminisced that period in his life. Those were simpler times then, nothing but the open ocean and the occasional lass when they docked. Unfortunately, his lifestyle had caused him trouble, so much so that he spent a month in jail. His brother had to bail him out, much to the embarrassment of his family. But that's a story for another time.

Barthillas said, "Alright Mark, I'm going to need you to tell me everything. Don't leave out a single detail."

My mouth was still full of pumpkin pie as I heard that statement. I quickly swallowed the meal, taking care not to choke. Once that was done, my mind was filled with the adventures that I had shared with Lyn and so many other friends. It was going to be a pleasure to recount it to a good man like Barthillas.

As requested, I did not leave out a single detail. My origin story in Lyn's ger, the Black Fang, the many battles with Lundgren's goons, my true identity, and the final battle at Castle Caelin. The brother's eyes widened as I told my tale of epic proportions.

The entire tale took an hour to recant in full. Once I was done I was confident that I had the duo's full trust.

Yanden thought about everything that he had just heard. There was one thing in particular that stuck out to him.

Yanden said, "So you got a girl huh? Why stick with just one when there's so many?"

Barthillas shot a look of disgust at his brother. For some reason, I felt this wasn't his first time hearing that.

Annoyed, he said, "There are better questions to ask than that."

His expression quickly calmed to one that I had grown used to. I spent the afternoon answering question after question. When asked about why I could no longer conjure magic, I shrugged my shoulders. I had no idea why. When asked if my memories still haunt me, I gave a slow nod. Although the memories no longer affected me much in the day anymore, they still thrived in my dreams, causing me to lose sleep.

Eventually, we came upon to topic of what to do about Wayne.

Matthew said, "It's evident that we have to do something about him. There's no guarantee that he won't treat this town like his quintessential juice box after he attempts to resurrect his son. Besides...is resurrection even possible?"

I shook my head. I explained to everyone that although bodies could be reanimated through the use of magic, no amount of magic could ever bring back a living soul. The great mathematician Infinitus of Bern attempted to calculate the amount of mana needed to do so, only to end up with the value of infinity. The concept of infinity was actually invented from this experiment, as it was the first time any Elibean scholar had encountered such a large unreachable quantity.

Yanden slammed his hand on the table, "So you're meaning to tell me that even after all this crap, he still isn't going to accomplish the one thing he sought after!?"

It was ironic that even after all that, magical physics will be this man's sole obstacle between him and his son.

I place my finger on my brow, "It's quite possible that he's aware of that. But I think that he's under the assumption that if he puts a lot of mana-rich quintessence into his boy's body, then maybe he'll reach some sort of result."

Matthew said, "Then can't we just let him fail? Afterword's he'll have no quintessence and we can just track him down and apprehend him. Simple."

I disagreed, "I'll have to stop you there. Are y'all familiar with the concept of Conservation of Energy?"

I got a bunch of confused looks. It was obvious they didn't.

I sighed, "Well, energy in any form, whether it be natural or magical, is neither created nor destroyed. Like when you rub your hands together, some of the kinetic energy is lost to heat. The same thing can be applied to magic. If Wayne puts in a certain amount of energy that has nowhere to go, it'll end creating a sort of magical powder keg that'll just blow up in his face."

Yanden nodded, "Then why don't we just let it blow up in his face? Let the fool kill himself."

I added, "Well the thing is...that's dependent how much energy puts in. Hmm...Matthew do you know how many people died from the walkers?"

Matthew pondered the question for a moment. It was clear that the number was not going to be small.

He said, "Well at one point this town had 800 people, and now it has 250. 200 died from a smallpox epidemic, so around 350 people died from the walkers."

The number nearly sent me flying from my chair. That was not an easy number to stomach.

I immediately ran the numbers through pen and paper and received an estimate of the amount of quintessential energy contained within all those people. Using past research I conducted here and there as a reference, I was able to guess how much quintessence on average a person has.

I was disgusted as I finished my work. To quantify the energy potential of a human being was incredibly dehumanizing, if not unethical. Had the ramifications of withholding such work not been so great, I would've thrown this sheet away immediately. Regardless, I showed the math to my peers. The number was breathtaking.

I said, "The resulting expulsion of energy would create a blast that would give off 4.184 x 1014 J of force, and would displace enough dust and swamp water to completely devastate the local area. In addition, anything within a half kilometer radius would immediately be vaporized."

My listeners shot up from their chair. Looks of worry and shock filled their faces. If Wayne was allowed to conduct his ceremony, then it would surely be the end of Swampmarsh.

Barthillas muttered, "By Elimine's Grace..."

Matthew said, "I'm going to call a town meeting immediately. We have to tell the citizens so they know what's at stake. After that...we're going to have to mobilize our troops again..."

* * *

 **Later...**

The meeting went as expected. With everyone gathered in one place, we were lucky when the small city hall didn't erupt into a panic. Although the threat of Wayne loomed over their heads, they was a sense of relief that this constant harassment could soon be over. It was agreed that the militia was to venture out into the swamp to hunt down Wayne, at any cost necessary.

Afterward, anybody not involved with the militia was dismissed. Hundreds of helpless civilians flooded the streets, many returning to their jobs among other things. I could sense that they all had a sense of unease, probably due to the fact they were powerless against the threat against them.

About 50 men and women congregated in the circular place. Since it was the largest open area in town, it only made sense. The large obelisk cast a large shadow that read noon.

Many of the soldiers had noticeable scars from the earlier battle. Not all were visible to the human eye, some were carried deep in their psyche. But their resolve held true, they would do anything to defend their home. The ten absent comrades were verification of that fact.

My mind was deep in thought. Although it was clear that Wayne was going to act soon, I had no idea when he would attempt to resurrect his son. In addition, we were clueless when it came to his location. For all we know, we could be aimlessly wandering in the swamp when an unexpected explosion sent us to our maker.

What I needed was a lead.

The militia captain came into view. His wounds had healed since that last stand by the gate, and he carried an expression of seriousness. His long steel lance was perched on his back, ready for use. He had come to beckon me for our next move.

He said, "Tactician...our orders. Surely we can't just sit here idle."

The worst action in times like these would be inaction. Simply letting your foe win without putting up a fight isn't something to be proud of. Regardless, we had no idea where our foe was.

He added, "I'm not sure if anybody told you, but his son's birthday is tomorrow. If he intends to act, it will be on that day."

Tomorrow. One day to find the man in this vast wilderness. That's not even considering any forces that he may have at hand. This was not going to be easy.

I said, "Captain. We don't know where Wayne is in this huge swamp. I don't want to waste time combing this whole area. Time is our most precious commodity right now."

The captain understood. He pointed towards an older man that was chatting away with a friend. His dented brown helmet hid his long black hair. I instantly recognized him as the guard that had let us in on day one. I approached him, and his face lit up as he recognized my masked face.

He said, "Tactician! Hey, I forgot to thank you for saving my life earlier. Myself and my daughter give you many thanks."

The man extended his hand, and I shook it. After some initial icebreakers, the man introduced himself as Fren. I inquired about a statement he made when we first met.

I asked, "Fren...I remember you mentioning an investigation when we first met. You seemed hesitant when spoke about it. Can you explain that to me?"

Fren bit his tongue, it was clear that he did not want to talk. But he understood that the well-being of his home was at stake, along with the life of his daughter.

He relented, "Well...I guess I can..."

He explained to me that he led a small task force out into an isolated part of the swamp. They were attempting to find the cause of the walker's that had plagued their town. After about an afternoon of wandering, they were attacked by a vicious group of walkers. The task force fought tooth and nail for their survival, but the numbers were too great. With no other choice they were forced to flee, but with the bog slowing down their retreat half of the men did not make it out alive. After the expedition returned home empty-handed, it was agreed upon that the trip was an unnecessary waste of life. Another expedition like it was never attempted again, and the village focused its resources on defending its home.

But the expedition did indeed bear fruit. Fren had spotted a white light emitted from a cave during the battle, the very same light that I had seen during our initial excursion with the walkers. He had brought this up with his captain, but he didn't believe him. How could he, and only he, see a light that no one else saw? He was told that his vision was failing him, and he kept the memory to himself since. Besides, no one was willing to stomach another expedition like that again.

But right now I was willing to pick up on any lead. Anything was better than throwing a dart on a map and hoping for the best.

I rallied the troops around me, speaking with a force that seemed to shake the pavement around us. I spoke with a tone that articulated my message well.

I exclaimed, "Alright troops! We're moving out in an hour! Gather your things and say your goodbyes! We WILL stop that man!"

* * *

 **That afternoon...**

The sun hung just above the horizon. The area was eerily silent as the bog was seemingly absent of all life. An ominous fog covered the slim caravan that was making their way through the swamp. Reeds of grass broke through the knee-deep water, with the obstacles greatly impeding their movement. The wide canopy above acted as a sort of barrier, keeping out the little light provided by the sun along with keeping in the humidity generated earlier in the day. The area was hot, dark, and immobile, a nightmare for any tactician. This was a fact I was very aware of.

We had no choice. If Fren's directions were correct, we should be nearby the location that he saw the light. All I could hope is that our will would overcome any natural barriers.

There was an aura of uneasiness. This was the very spot where the original task force was decimated. Rotting remains of former friends and their broken weapons covered the swamp floor. Any sense of confidence evaporated with the wind.

I looked towards the brothers that were leading the caravan. Barthillas stood like a pillar of hope amidst our collapsing self-esteem. His armor shined against the little light, a result of his cleaning routine. His brother also reflected this confidence, although less so. All of his confidence stemmed from the way he carried himself, rather than efficient cleanliness. He treaded through the water caring less about his appearance and more about his demeanor, and his newfound seriousness of the situation astounded the group. Every person here were ready to put down this threat once and for all.

We passed through the brush and made our way to a clearing. A small cave came into view, surrounded by more knee deep water. The cave was elevated away from the water, a small radius of dirt surrounded the cave creating an island. The canopy had since dissipated, and the setting sun bore down its rays on us.

A soldier in front of me smiled, he muttered, "This is too easy. We're right at their doorstep."

Suddenly, the water around the cave began sending light waves towards our directions. The earth began vibrating as a bright light erupted from the dark cave.

We turned our heads around us as bright green eyes lit up the dark water. Gray bodies erupted from the water, some of which immediately tore into the flesh of our troops. Along with that, gray spikey tentacles emerged from the water, slamming themselves into our caravan. The situation quickly deteriorated as our organization crumbled.

Soldiers drew their spare swords and began to engage the enemy creatures. As I was about to call for our troops to form a defensive perimeter around me, I felt something grab onto my right ankle. It was cold and clammy, and its nails dug into my skin like a knife. I drew my knife to put down my opponent, but as I turned to face it, my heart dropped. I froze as mental ice covered my body.

It was a walker. But not just any ordinary walker. Its green hair fell from its gray head, and it bore clothes that resembled those of a sacean plainswoman. Its skin was black and charred, evidence of burning. It pointed its finger toward me, and I was shocked as words left its mouth.

It spoke with a raspy tone, "You...you did...this."

The area around me blurred as the knee-deep water was replaced for lush green grass...

 _Green flames covered the familiar village. Nearby, there was a person looked like a splitting image of myself, but had golden eyes instead of amber and brown. A woman with green hair was grabbing onto to his feet, sobbing uncontrollably. The man, who I recognized as Azazel, placed his hands on the woman's forehead. Muttering a spell, white energy left the woman's temple. The woman gave a blood-curdling scream, and she fell onto the ground lifeless. Azazel had taken away the very essence of the woman's life force. I stood powerless to stop him..._

With a quick slash of his sword, Yanden cut the walker's head clean off. It landed into the water with a splash, and I was able to break out of my trance.

Yanden asked, "Tactician! We have to reorganize! If we don't act now we'll be slaughtered!"

As I composed myself, my initial feelings of fear and uncertainty morphed into something less so. My face fumed as I realized that Wayne decided to play a hand that no one else had dared to use.

 _He made a morph that resembled a Lorcan massacre victim. That bastard used my memories against me! How dare he?!_

I looked around as saw our broken soldiers. A man was pinned against the swampy floor and began to drown as he took in water. A small pocket of soldiers created a tiny perimeter around some wounded comrades, but they were noticeably battered. How could I recover these troops' spirits and lead them against this huge threat?

Thing is, I didn't have to.

Barthillas slammed his hammer against the water, and a huge lightning bolt crashed into the swamp. Creatures were obliterated in its wake, and everyone looked towards our pillar of hope. His yell helped shake off any insecurities that we had.

He exclaimed, "Troops! Rally around me! Take the Testudo formation! We will win this fight!"

Fighting our way towards Barthillas, our troops locked shields as we formed an impenetrable box around the big man. Inside the square, our wounded laid defenseless. With a renewed spirit, our troops were prepared to take on the creatures.

The Testudo formation is a formation most commonly used by the Romans and Riot police. It's the most prominent defensive formation possible, and when coupled with short swords it can cut down on relatively unarmed opponents like walkers. However, with so many troops bunched together, it is vulnerable against heavy objects like tentacles.

Matthew leaped into action. Prancing between walkers and open gaps, he tore a huge gash into a flailing tentacle. Unable to support its own weight, the creature was split in half as its topside fell onto the ground.

He exclaimed, "I'll take care of these things!"

With that out of the way, our army was able to focus solely on the slow-moving walkers gnawing at their shields. With a discipline that I had neither seen before, they traded blows with the beasts. Despite the ferocity of the soulless morphs, our line held firm against them. As time went on, the battle seemed to be going in a familiar direction.

But that assumption was wrong. More green eyes appeared in the water, and more walkers erupted from the watery floor. More gray bodies slammed into our troop's shields, and the soldiers were brought to the brink of breaking. Yanden delivered some quick dark slashes through the ranks of the unliving, scattering the forces across the bog for the time being.

I grabbed Barthillas' shoulder, and said, "If we keep fighting like this, nothing will get done. We need to attack Wayne at his source."

I pointed towards the cave that was giving off a bright light. My intuition inferred that it was Wayne's hideout.

Barthillas agreed, and he motioned for his brother approach us. With the attention of our two strongest members, I proposed a plan...

* * *

 **A moment later...**

We left the main army and dashed for the bright cave. My boots splashed against the murky water, and the sound alerted some walkers to our location. Unfazed, Yanden drew his twin swords and swiftly cut down any creature on our path. The rotting bodies sunk into the surrounding reeds, reentering its energies into the environment as bacteria immediately took hold of the organic matter. I reached the island first, and my bloody ankle dripped a red ooze into the dirt. I groaned in pain.

"Agh!"

The pain hadn't been so obvious until now. In the chaos of the initial injury, adrenaline had numbed the wound to the point of my just blowing it off. But the wound was deeper than initially thought.

Working quickly, Barthillas received a vulnerary from his pocket and treated my wound. The injury closed up good as new, with no evidence of it ever being there save for a small scar. I thanked him, and we made our way into the bright cave.

The cave wasn't big at all. The inside was no bigger than a small house, and torches hung on the rocky walls. About a dozen, large ceramic jars were lazily strewn around the cave, some of which were already open. A wooden table with an assortment of knives, syringes, and other medical equipment laid at the end of the cave. But our attention was drawn towards the center of the room. Wayne was hunched over the body of a small boy, which was lifeless. A white light was emitting from his hands, drowning the area of anything else.

Taking notice to our presence, he lifted his right hand towards us. I ducked as a variation of a lightning spell hit the roof of the cave.

He exclaimed, "No! I won't lose my little boy again! Get away from us!"

He let free a flurry of lightning spells at us. Barthillas grabbed my collar as he pulled me behind a large rock for cover. The energy of the magical attacks shook our cover, and a large crack began to develop in its center as it was continually battered.

Yanden lifted his head from the rock.

Yanden exclaimed, "Wayne! Listen to us! If you try to-"

Yanden pulled his head back into cover a bolt lit up the area his head formerly occupied.

Wayne spoke with an erratic tone, "I don't care! Anyone that gets between me and my son will PAY!"

Wayne could not be reasoned with.

I said, "We don't have much time. We need to knock out Wayne before he puts too much quintessence into that boy's body."

Barthillas agreed, "Yes...but I'm afraid this armor is mostly useless against magic. Yanden doesn't deal with it well either. If either of us gets hit with one of those spells, I'm afraid it might be the end of us. Didn't you say that you were a mage right? I know you can't use magic anymore, but maybe your resistance is still up to par."

I considered the proposition. If I could tank enough shots to allow Yanden to quickly knockout Wayne, we could end this battle right here.

But was that risk I really wanted to take? My body was partly made from black magic, and if the weapons triangle works as expected, the light magic would tear straight through me. But did it really work like that? Light magic tears through flesh regardless. There was too much uncertainty for me to make any conclusions.

I shook my head, "I can't. I don't think I can take even one of those blows Barthillas."

Yanden had a panicked expression. He said, "I can't do anything. There's too much light!"

There didn't seem to be any right options. The lightning continued to batter down on our cover, and the rock was on the brink of breaking. My eyes desperately looked towards my companions for answers, but it was in vain. There was nowhere out of this.

The rock crumbled with a final spell delivered to its core. Following his knight's training, Barthillas wrapped himself around his brother and I. He was prepared to take the initial blow himself and spare our lives at the cost of his own. He closed his eyes as he waited for death itself.

But it never came. The air went silent, and Barthillas released us from his grasp. Opening his eyes...he realized that the light coming from Wayne had dimmed.

A large knife was protruding from Wayne's chest. I immediately noticed a familiar blend of red and brown. It was the thief Matthew.

Matthew pulled the knife away from the old man's chest as he fell onto the ground. His throat filled with his own blood as he gasped for air.

Tears were forming around Matthew's eyes. Wayne had always been like a grandfather to him and the village. The countless good memories, lame jokes, and selfless actions that this man gave to his town was unreal. He couldn't believe that the person delivering so much pain to Swampmarsh had been the same person giving it so much love.

 _Love is a source of great joy, but it's also a source of great pain. I understand that now._

Matthew heard a small voice emerge from Wayne's direction.

"What...have...I...done?"

Matthew lifted the old man's head and rested it against his lap. Myself and the brothers approached cautiously.

Wayne muttered, "I see it now. I...was...wrong. I was...so focused...on bringing back my...family...that I never realized...I had Swampmarsh...all this time. I was...so foolish."

Matthew was speechless. I could tell he was debating within himself. Honestly, we were too.

Wayne whispered, "That magic...it's evil. It was...so easy to lose yourself. It's my fault...I knew...the risks...but I still..."

A tear from Matthew fell onto the mayor's cheek. He grabbed his hand as held it close.

"I'm dying...please...tell them...I'm so sorry. Forgive me...please. Oh...Anthony...my boy...you hadn't aged...one...bit."

Wayne closed his eyes and went limp. The warm mayor of Swampmarsh was dead.

* * *

 **A long time ago...**

A father and his son were standing by a lone grave on a hill. The gray sky kept out any sunlight, and a cool breeze traveled through the air. The duo was wearing a suit and tie respectively.

The son said, "Daddy? What do you mean Mommy isn't going to be here anymore?"

The father held back his urge to break into tears. He had to stay strong for his son. No matter what...they only have each other now.

The father hugged his son, "I'm sorry son. She's in a better place now."

The son didn't understand. People would come, and they would leave. But they would always come back. They always did. That's all he's ever known.

The son asked, "Did mommy get lost?"

The father felt a tear fall down the side of his cheek. It took the rest of his remaining strength to not progress any further.

The father held onto his son tighter, "Yes...she did get lost. But I promise...I'll never lose you."

The son smiled at the gesture. After some time, the father lifted the son up into his shoulders as they returned home.

The gravestone had two red flowers over a fresh mound of dirt. It read "Martha Flowers, Beloved Wife of Wayne, Beloved Mother of Anthony."

* * *

 **That night...**

An empty bottle of liquor laid on my counter. A letter to my beloved was nearby, and still unfinished. My inn room was illuminated by a lone candle. I was deep in thought of how I was going to end this letter.

This was interrupted by a loud creek on my door, and Matthew came into view. He gave one look at the empty bottle and frowned.

He said, "Drinking alone?"

I tiredly nodded but said nothing. I didn't have the heart to speak right now.

He added, "Is this something I should be concerned about."

I shook my head, "No...I'm just trying to unsee something today. This is helping a bit."

Matthew sighed, "You're not the only one trying to forget right now. The others are having a drinking party right now. You should join them."

I considered his proposition. What would Lyn want me to do? When considering a heart like hers, I realized the answer was obvious."

I said, "Sure...just let me finish this letter. We leave for Badon in the morning, and I want to get this done before then."

Matthew's employers had requested that we head to Badon to accomplish an unknown mission. I was going to go alone...but Matthew's employers were...persuasive.

 _Myself, Barthillas, Yanden, and Matthew were sharing a table in Red's Inn. Matthew explained to them my situation and offered them a deal._

 _"Since you guys know Mark's true identity, and are okay with working with him, my employer has requested I offer a deal to you two. You two are to accompany Mark around on a series of tests. The mission will take anywhere from six months to a year. As you can expect, the compensation will be generous."_

 _Matthew dropped a large bag of gold onto the table. The sheer weight of the bag caused the table to lean towards the right._

 _Barthillas raised his brow, "What do you take us for? Simple mercenaries? We don't fight for gold, we're well off enough. We fight for the good of-"_

 _Yanden snatched the bag from the table, "We'll take it."_

 _Barthillas gave his brother a shocked expression. There was a brief pause as they locked eyes._

 _Yanden smirked, "It never hurts to have a powerful person in your debt you know. It's what's best for the family."_

 _Barthillas cursed silently. He had a point. Whoever Matthew represented must be a truly important person for them to just move money around like this. This could lead them to new contacts and increase his family's trading prowess ever more._

 _Matthew extended his hand towards the duo, "Do we have a deal?"_

The duo had accepted the deal, much to my relief. Elimine knows how easy it would be for to get robbed by passerby bandits. My attack power had greatly diminished since I lost my ability to use magic.

Matthew said, "I'll wait for you downstairs, don't take long."

He left the room, and I was alone once more.

I pondered what I should finish off the letter with...

An honest response?

 _My memories have only been getting worse, and I've started experimenting with alcohol to numb the pain. I haven't been getting any sleep and migraines have been coming nearly daily. I have a new scar in my ankle after I got an episode during the middle of a battle. I almost died yesterday..._

Okay, that response would give her a heart attack.

How about something more optimistic?

 _I met new friends here at Swampmarsh, and they've agreed to accompany me on my journey! Can you believe that? I won't be alone anymore! The people here are so nice...Matthew's mom even made me pumpkin pie! But man...if I could have anything else but pumpkin pie...it'd be you. I wish I took you to Lerma mass, and I hope that one day I will..._

Now we got something...

* * *

 **A/N: Thus ends the Swampmarsh arc. We're going to Badon next :)**

 **P.S: Woah! This story is really starting to pop off! I'm getting more views this week than I've had in my first month starting off! Thank you!**


	19. Chains

**Chapter 16: Chains**

 **By SodiumChloride12, derived from Fire Emblem, owned by Nintendo**

 **A/N: Today I hit 100k words. Get ready for an emotional rollercoaster. Also, I am now taking applications for beta readers. Contact me if you're interested.**

 **N: Our heroes find themselves unwelcome in Badon. However, that's the least of their problems.**

* * *

 _August 28th, 981_

 _Dear Lyn,_

 _After getting over the morning hangover, we bid farewell to everyone. With that done, Matthew sent us off onto our new destination, the port city of Badon. Badon is a city that is home the largest and most important ports in Lycia, it is home to a large population of sailors, merchants, and other sea-farers. It also has a reputation for being among the rowdiest cities here in Elibe, but I don't mind it much._

 _After a few weeks of travel, we finally came upon the gates of Badon..._

* * *

 **The Gates of Badon...**

The sun hung high in the sky, and cool ocean air brushed up against my sweat-drenched body. It was a welcome change in temperature, we had been marching through open prairie with isolated pockets of wilderness. It might as well had been a desert, my skin darkened as I took off my purple hood and rolled up my sleeves. With my light load and relatively high melatonin content, I was able to brave the journey well.

My companions weren't so lucky. The brother's skin was sunburned as their relatively pale skin chaffed against the bitter sunlight. Barthillas had it worst off, as his heavy armor cooked him internally. Although he didn't display his discomfort publicly, I could tell he was very fortunate to finally be near the ocean air of Badon.

Although Yanden was better off than his brother, he didn't reflect this reality in his demeanor. Mabel had broken up with him when he discovered his..."philosophy" towards women. Although the swordsman had always expected he'd just dump Mabel and move on to another girl, the fact that she broke up with him shook him off his feet. It wasn't something that had ever happened to him before.

Thus, Yanden hung his head low. Barthillas and I put two and two together, and we didn't ask questions. Somethings were best left unsaid.

We were traveling on the right side of the road. Ahead of us stood the large stone walls of Badon, along with a large iron gate. We were following behind a long line of merchants, businessman, sailors, and other visitors. The air was filled with chatter from around Elibe.

A merchant said, "I heard they discovered more gold deposits in Illia."

His companion replied, "Bummer. Inflation is going to become a real problem very soon."

A wife traveling to visit her husband said, "My husband is back for two-month leave. He's part of the Badon Navy, so I'm glad I can come to see him."

A stranger replied, "A navy sailor huh? Those pesky pirates treat Bandon like it's their own, it disgusts me."

Two travelers from Bern were directly ahead of us. One of them wore a black top hat, while the other carried a large umbrella to keep away the sun. Both seemed very well travelled.

One of them told the other, "You remember about the Butcher of the Lorca? They say he's on the loose here in Lycia."

I cautiously made sure my mask was secured to my face, and gradually made myself skinny behind Barthillas' large frame. Better safe than sorry.

The other said, "Azazel, was it? I think every marquess here in Lycia except for two have a bounty on him. It's quite a sum as well."

A drip of sweat went down my forehead. We proceeded through the gate of Badon in silence as I mentally prayed that we'd get through faster.

Having entered the city, the caravan of travelers dissipated into the general crowd of the city. I gave a sigh of relief after dodging that bullet...

The city sprawled out around the ocean like clay smacked against a wall. We had only entered the suburbs of Badon, and the city center and port laid further west. A large dirt road connected the gate to the rest of the city, and a sign read out the distance towards individual destinations.

 _Port Arthur, 0.5 miles._

 _Campbell Bank,_ _0.3 miles._

 _Garibaldi Market, 0.2 miles._

 _Library of Memphis, 0.4 miles._

The Library...Matthew mentioned that an agent of his employer would meet us there. It's only a short 15-minute walk down this road. It won't be long until we have to face our second task.

Our feet was weary from the journey, and we were ready to sit and get some rest in a nice...quiet place. I was considering buying something nice for Lyn at the city market, something she'd enjoy...something personal. Maybe a locket, or a scarf would call out to me like in Araphen. Badon is a global city, and it's markets would be a reflection of that fact. Although gold was getting more and more worthless by the month, I was certain I'd be able to afford anything there. She deserved nothing less.

 _I'm getting a little too ahead of myself. Let's go to the library_ _first._

Suddenly, a loud feminine voice erupted from an unseen location. The anger in its tone caused the area around us to go silent.

"Yanden?! Is that you?! You have some nerve showing your face here again!"

We turned towards the voice, and a blonde lady came into view. She was surrounded by burly men with black pants and long eyepatches. She had similar attire, with a large black pirate captain hat covering the top of her head. She wore black shoes, and had slim back pants that provided for ease of movement. She had a long rapier resting on her waist, perfect for piecing armor. She also had a gold and black pirate jacket, along with an undershirt that exposed...a questionable amount of cleavage. It was obvious that she was the leader of this band of pirates.

Yanden looked like a deer in headlights. His panicked expression spoke volumes.

I raised my hands defensively, "Hey...do we know you?"

The gang ignored my question and cornered us by the wall of a nearby house. I felt my heart skip a beat as I noticed the pirates' weapons.

 _A steel sword, a silver ax, a steel cutlass, and a rapier. These guys mean business..._

Grabbing Yanden's arm, I exclaimed, "What the hell did you do?!"

Yanden was at a loss for words. His knuckles went a pearly white as he pressed his hand against the wall.

Barthillas was stunned as well. He was usually aware of his older brother's antics, but that woman was a complete mystery to him. He searched his mind for the countless enemies that Yanden had made over the years, but came up with no answers.

The woman exclaimed, "No words huh? At the very least we can make you scream! Get em' boys!"

The pirates charged towards us, and we drew our weapons. I silently cursed at Yanden for getting us in this situation.

Sparks flew as Barthillas' Fellbringer slammed into two pirates' attempted parry. My lance clashed with the rapier of the pirate woman, ducking as she thrust her blade for my neck. Yanden was unusually sloppy, and his fighting style carried none of the grace we were used to. He narrowly dodged an ax that was aimed for his head, and it tore open the wall of the nearby dwelling.

The pirates were tough, and obviously had the power edge of us. Barthillas struggled to keep his two opponents at bay, while Yanden was noticeably slower. I quickly realized that the pirate captain was way more proficient with her weapon than I was with mine, despite the fact my lance technically beats her sword. In desperation, I tried to knock her off guard by swinging my weapon at her, but the attack was parried.

In the chaos, I managed to catch a glimpse of a panicked homeowner that was visible through the new hole. He was a average looking man with brown hair and brown eyes. His tunic was stained from his morning breakfast, and he was busily cleaning up after himself when he noticed our commotion. Our eyes met for a split second, and he dropped his plate, shattering it in the process. He then turned and ran for his life.

I wasn't the only one that noticed this. Yanden must've felt moved by him, because at that moment he finally decided to speak.

"W-Whitney...this isn't necessary."

The pirate woman pushed against my lance shaft, throwing me onto the ground. My back bruised as it hit the dirt ground.

She exclaimed, "Bullshit! I'm going to cut you and your friends down where you stand!"

Filled with anger, Whitney ignored me and dashed towards our swordsman of darkness. Yanden kicked his initial opposition to the floor, but didn't even have a second to breathe when his sword clashed with Whitney's.

Gasping for air, I lifted my lance above my head as a cutlass slammed into it. A furious pirate had noticed that I was the weakest link in the group, and had the full intention to take advantage of it. I shifted my body towards the right, and I used the momentum from his next blow to push him towards the floor.

Taking this opportunity, I was up at my feet again. I lifted my lance to deliver my next blow, but a strong arm grabbed me by the neck. Struggling, I dropped my weapon onto the ground, with its metallic tip sticking into it. I flailed my arms around as I attempted to breathe, but I noticed that the pirate I had flung onto the ground was no longer there. In fact, none of the pirates were. They had all vanished.

I was pinned against the wall, and a commanding voice began to speak to me.

"You have the right to remain silent. Anything that you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to speak to a lawyer..."

I came to a sudden realization. My new attacker wasn't one of the pirates. The homeowner had contacted the police, and the pirates fled at first sight of them.

A group of armed men in blue surrounded the three of us, and a duo of blue mages had Elfire spells ready to fire at a whim. A big German Shepard was barking loudly at us, only being held back by its equally angry handler.

A voice ruptured through the air. It carried a sense of authority that even Barthillas couldn't challenge.

"HANDS ABOVE YOUR HEADS! DROP THOSE WEAPONS! IF YOU DO ANYTHING EVEN REMOTELY SUSPICIOUS, WE'LL BEAR DOWN ON YOU WITH HELLFIRE!"

Barthillas immediately raised his hands into the air. He had already fought in this battle against his judgment, and his code was not about to allow him to challenge the police. His mighty Fellbringer fell onto the floor, and police immediately detained him.

The policeman who was restraining me slammed me onto the ground. My head went dizzy my head hit the pavement, and I heard a small metallic click. I tried to move my hands, but it was no use. Cuffs kept them in check.

Yanden looked at the situation developing around him. The police force here in Badon is notorious for being extremely forceful with their "enforcement". So much so, that many go on to consider it police brutality. But it was only natural that it developed this way, a strong police force was needed to curb the many criminals in the town. Yet despite that, the treatment was selective. The police were plagued with corruption, so much so that the commissioner is commonly said to be best friends with some of the leading pirates in Badon. This is a fact that the marquess is very aware of, but as long as the general order of the town is preserved, he was willing to let it slide.

Surrounded and outnumbered, Yanden did the only thing he could do. He dropped his swords into the ground, and an officer tackled him onto the ground. Resisting the urge to fight back, he was cuffed and thrown into a cart that his two other companions were sharing.

They spent the short drive to the station wondering what the hell just happened.

* * *

 **One week later, St. Carlo Prison, Badon...**

The damp prison cell reeked of vomit and other bodily fluids from past inmates. A little light leaked through the open window high above us, but it still did not provide enough heat to offset the ocean air entering the chamber. A lone rusty toilet laid at a corner of the room, and luckily it had working plumbing.

The three of us were sitting on a bench meant for two. Considering we weren't provided beds, we had no other choice. The old wood flexed against our weight.

I faced Yanden, who was lazily looking at the ceiling.

I asked, "Yanden...why did that lady attack us? I've only seen that much hate in a person once before."

I pushed away memories of my near-death under the hands of Rath. Somethings were best not digging back up.

Yanden sighed, "She was...my ex."

Barthillas bit his lip, "All that trouble and it was just an ex's quarrel? You're joking right?"

Yanden gave an awkward smile and shrugged his shoulders, "Well...she wasn't too terribly great in bed...so there's that."

Sarcastically, I said, "So I've spent a week in jail because of a bad breakup. Nice!"

Yanden replied, "Well...that's not the only thing I did..."

* * *

 **One year ago...**

A large ship was laid burning through the night. The crew of Captain Whitney stood powerless as their home combusted before their eyes. Some of the men broke into tears as they reminisced on all of the treasure, rum, and good memories that the vessel held.

One of the sailors said aloud, "Who would do this?"

As if on cue, someone replied, "I think I recall Yanden taking a smoke break by an open whiskey barrel."

Everyone turned and faced the swordsman who was in the rear. He turned and ran, ducking as an arrow whizzed by his head.

One of the sailors exclaimed, "Get him!"

* * *

 **Today...**

Barthillas said, "You burned their ship?!"

Yanden reminisced on how the crew eventually hunted him down and threw him in prison for arson. While in jail, Whitney told him if he respected his health, he wouldn't bother ever showing his face in Badon again. His brother came shortly after and paid bail; they vacated the city shortly after. Although Barthillas had always wondered why his brother had suddenly ceased his career as a pirate and return to their family; he never bothered asking why.

Yanden nodded, "Yeah...Whitney and her crew hated me after that."

I thought about all the chaos that Yanden had caused to those men and women. With the newfound context, their action's towards us seemed justified.

I added, "I can't really blame them."

We heard the jangling of keys and the shriek of grinding metal. Raising our heads, men with blue armor stood in behind our open jail door. Along with short swords, they also had three handcuffs.

One of the men said, "Your lawyer is here to talk to you. Do not resist."

His companions sternly placed the cuffs on our hands, this time neglecting to force our hands on our backs like earlier. With a strong hand on our backs, the guards took us out of our jail cell.

Leading us through the tight corridors, we passed through many of our cell neighbors. Having never spoken to them, I chose to just give a quick of them all, making sure to never make eye contact. The scum of society inhabited these walls, ranging from petty thieves, to con artists, to blood-thirsty murders. They shouted jeers and other profanity towards our direction, taking joy in mocking the new prisoners. I didn't pay them any mind, but a cell tucked away in the corner of the prison caught my eye. It was a cell similar to the one I had just left, but only one soul called it home. The sight of him was forgettable.

His head was shaved bare, and noticeable red marks from a forced haircut lined the top of his head. A straightjacket kept him pinned against a fixed chair, covering every limb on his upper body. His legs were shackled to the floor, completely immobile save for minor fidgeting. His eyes were dark brown, almost completely black. Our eyes met, and I could feel a sense of pity overwhelm my body.

Those were not the eyes of a murderer or even a petty thief. They were eyes of someone thrown away by a society that deemed no use for him, a society that only functioned for those of a sound mind. He was thrown in there not because of his own actions, but because of a disease that he had no control over. Because of it, he's damned to a lifetime behind bars.

I felt a push from my back, I realized that I had stopped dead in my tracks.

"Hurry up! Don't waste my time!"

Hastily, I returned with the others. We passed through some more corridors and made our way through to the end of a hallway. In front of us laid a small door, which the guard opened. My eyes were taken off guard as a bright light erupted from the door.

From the get-go, it was evident that this room was the most maintained and cared for in the entire building. White paint covered the walls, pristine and clean. A window brought in sunlight that illuminated the room, along with setting it at a comfortable temperature. A marble bust of lady justice stood at the opposite end of the room, with a scale representing balance. Large bars of steel cut the room in half, and three wooden stools occupied our half. On the other side, I spied three figures, one wearing blue, one wearing purple, and one wearing yellow.

The guard exclaimed, "You have thirty minutes!"

I felt a small breeze brush up against my back as the door behind was slammed shut. A lone guard now stood in front of it, serving as insurance should we decide to pull something.

The man in blue was wearing a long robe that reached the floor. His hood was lifted to reveal black slick-backed hair, with part of it coming down towards his forehead. He was tall, handsome, and had dark brown eyes. His companion in purple was a small girl that also had black hair and dark brown eyes. Her hair was held back into a partial ponytail, while the rest of it fell onto her shoulders. She looked no older than 14.

The woman in yellow looked nothing like the other two. She had red hair that went down just above her shoulders and was not styled. Her yellow cape was draped over her purple tunic, and she wore long brown boots that appeared similar in style to Matthew's. She had a completely different aura than the other two, also similar to a thief I knew from Swampmarsh.

The man in blue beckoned for us take a seat, with himself and his companions following suit.

The man extended his hand towards me, "Hello. Pleased to make your acquaintance. I'm Felix Hojre, and this is my assistant Malay. We were sent here by Leila to defend you for unlawful destruction of property, and disturbing the peace correct?"

I was curious about the new situation that befell on us. Regardless, I was always one to accept help.

Shaking his hand, I looked at the red-haired woman, "Um...I believe so. But...I don't believe we've met Leila."

Leila brushes away some of her red hair from her face. Reading her eyes, I could tell that she was not my enemy.

Greeting herself, she said, "We haven't. I'm the agent sent by my employer. How was Swampmarsh?"

I thought of those chaotic weeks. So much happened in so little time, considering the gravity of the situation there. I still had dry scabs covering my body from the walker's sharp talons. I was just glad we had granted that town an opportunity to finally heal and move on.

I said, "Bloody with a side of traumatic. Scars there are going to run deep. I'm just glad we're able to help those people."

Leila replied, "That makes me glad. Those people are strong, I know they'll rebuild to become greater than they were before."

Barthillas asked, "What makes you say that? Have you been there before?"

Leila smiled and lifted her left hand. On her third finger laid a simple yet elegantly crafted golden ring. It had a small diamond located at its center, with engravings of ancient dragons around its circumference. I recognized it as an engagement ring.

To my left, I could hear Yanden make a barely audible groan in disappointment.

Leila added, "I'm engaged to that town's proudest son, Matthew. I've been there frequently. I was going to come to assist you with my fiancé but my duty had been fairly demanding lately. I do apologize for that."

I said, "I doubt one more person would've made that much of difference in that situation, so don't trouble yourself over it. Besides, we don't have much time. What can Felix and his assistant do for us?"

Leila glanced over at the pair beside her, "Felix is my brother-in-law, but he's also the best defense attorney in town. I'm confident that he can get you out of here, and then we'll discuss your next mission later."

The three of us nodded in agreement. Noticing that we were ready to get to business, Felix and his assistance laid several important looking legal documents onto their desk.

Taking out a pen, he said, "Okay, I'm going to need you three to tell me everything that happened..."

* * *

 **July 3rd...** **Municipal Court-Courtroom No.2...**

A drip of sweat came down my brow. My leg could not stop moving as it shook underneath our desk.

The courtroom was small and could barely contain the bustling population within it. It had wooden walls with a theme of white and brown, and paintings of men long dead hung on them. The judge, an older man, stood in the very front with a seat that resembled a throne. On his desk lay a plethora of paperwork and other desk items, with a small gavel distinguishable from the mess. To his right stood the flag of Badon; it had two stripes aligned horizontal, with a white stripe and three red stars located at its center. Windows brought in outside light, along with highlighting our panic-stricken faces.

To our right sat 11 men and woman that served as our jury. Their colorful radiated under the sunlight, almost creating a bit of a rainbow effect. Behind us stood a small wooden barrier, along with four armed guards. Our case had gained much publicity due to our actions in Swampmarsh, and many people had the curiosity to see "The Masked Mercenary", "Barthillas, the Just Knight", and "Yanden, the Dark Swordsman" in the flesh. I gritted my teeth as I thought of how the Black Fang would be reacting if they put two and two together.

 _I'm so screwed._

The people behind us were the least of my problems right now. The prosecutor, a man wearing a red robe similar in appearance to Felix, had spent the entire day arguing why we should be thrown into the labor camps. Concurrently, Felix was doing a splendid job defending our case, arguing that we had not instigated the engagement, and are thus not liable...

Felix said, "According to Chapter 2, section 1, of the 3rd series of bylaws in Badon, any damage done to a person's property should be paid by the assailant. Since my clients are not the assailants, they are not liable..."

Time went on, and minutes turned to hours. My physique calmed as I grew to trust Felix and his assistant more and more. Although I was used to absorbing large amounts of knowledge at once, the jargon that was being spat out by these two men was too complicated to even get a grasp on. I put my hand below my chin, and using my arm for support, I began to doze off into sleep...

 _I'll just...take a little nap. Since I'm wearing this mask...no one will notice..._

 **"OBJECTION!"**

 _I'm awake!_

I raised my head immediately, having very obviously almost dozed off in the middle of my own trial. Taking whatever self-confidence I had left, I leaned against the back of my chair and noticed that Felix had his hand pointed towards the prosecutor very dramatically.

This was going to be a long trial...

* * *

 **That afternoon...**

The three of us left the courtroom that day free men. Walking down the streets to meet with Leila, we quickly realized the impossibility of doing that discreetly. We were heckled by reporters, many of which were dying to interview minor celebrities on a slow day.

Luckily, Malay knew of a secret route to the library through the harbor. Walking through the corridors of downtown Badon, we managed to sneak past everybody.

Yanden said, "This route brings back memories...take a left here and you'll run into a lovely brothel."

Barthillas slapped the back of Yanden's head. The swordsman looked back at his brother angrily.

"What the hell was that for?"

Barthillas replied, "Don't get us in anymore trouble, or next time I won't hold back."

We continued through the path, turning the corner of leather shop. We were greeted by the large harbor of Badon.

I was taken aback by the sight of it. Large ships that consisted of a variety of Sloops, Clippers, Galleons, Brigantines, and others were orderly floating by the wide coast. Seagulls flew in the air, most coming towards us as they rested at the shore. A variety of fisheries, shops, pubs, and other establishments were by the wharf. We had an open view of the ocean, and its wide expanse reminded me how small we truly were in this world.

Looking ahead, I noticed that my friends were some distance ahead of me. I had paused while I stood to gape at the harbor.

 _Better catch up with them. Looks like they didn't notice I lagged behind._

Digging my feet into the sandy soil, I was about to make a dash for them when I felt a sudden force grab my collar. I attempted to turn to face it, but a firm hand kept me still. My muscles strained as I struggled against it.

My gut sank. Although I couldn't see my assailants, I feared the worst.

 _The fang...no!_

A voice whispered in my ear, "Eh...you look strong enough."

I fell onto the floor as a blunt object was smash onto my head. Going into a dizzy haze, three burlesque men stood over me. They were speaking, but in this state, I could barely make anything out anymore...

A flurry of emotions went through my body. Confusion, a tad bit of anger. Some worry for my friends ahead. But none of it mattered. Everything went to black...

* * *

 _Where am I?_

I raised my head and felt a dull pain around the circumference of my forehead. A rag of dried blood was wrapped around it, with crimson visible from the front. I raised my finger to it and applied some pressure, but recoiled as something that felt like a sharp needle rocked my brain. The wound was bad, but it was evident that enough time had passed to dull out the pain.

As I gathered a sense of what was around me, something immediately garnered my attention. A thick chain ball was tied to my ankle, and it made it nearly impossible to move without a massive amount of effort. My hands were free, but my lance was nowhere to be seen. Digging into my pockets, I felt a torn out page of a fire tome. Whoever had attacked me took everything that seemed of value, including my pocket watch, mask, and fire tome.

 _My watch...I loved that thing. It was the only important thing I had when I met Lyn._

I looked at the environment around me. I was in a small wooden room, and planks aligned the walls, ceiling, and floor. It was nearly pitch black, save for the occasional ray of sunlight that leaked through the ceiling. An iron door was the only way in and out of the place, and I noticed a small slide door located near eye level.

Suddenly, a thought crossed my mind, and I went into a silent panic.

 _Did I get kidnapped...and by the Fang no less?! What am I going to do?!_

I heard a cough echo through the darkness. Turning towards it, I was unsure if I should call out towards it.

A feminine voice rang out, "So I take from your movement that you're alive right?"

Cautiously, I replied, "Yeah...should I not b-"

The room tilted forward, and I slammed against the wall. I didn't even have a second to breathe when it rocked back, and the only thing that kept me from flying into the other wall was my chain. After a brief moment, the rocking stabilized, and I was able to catch my breath. My stomach felt a bit queasy.

I exclaimed, "What the hell was that?!"

The voice replied, "Never been at sea before? I'd give yourself some speech. You're about to lose whatever you had in your stomach."

 _Sea...?_

"Wha-"

I immediately went into gag reflex as the seed in my queasy stomach grew. Making a mess on the open deck, bile narrowly missed my clothing.

The voice said, "You'll get used to it. I can't tell you how dehumanizing it feels to make a mess on yourself. It would be a shame too, purple and green don't go together."

"Ugh..."

After several moments, my gut felt fine enough for me to compose myself. I immediately realized that despite the near pitch darkness, the lady had somehow seen the color of my tunic.

I asked, "You mentioned that purple and green don't go well together, yet we're in pitch darkness. Are you some sort of bat?"

The voice chuckled, and I heard the movement of her chains. Standing underneath a stray ray of sunlight, I spotted a woman with white hair. She looked no older than me, and her red eyes met mine. She had a skin tone that resembled mine, something in between woody brown and peach. She had a taller posture for a woman, looking about 5 foot eleven; one inch taller than me.

She said, "You could say I'm not human. I come from a land beyond the eastern sea, from a tribe of a species that is unknown to this land. They call us Manaketes, and with that, we are granted the gift of enhanced sight."

 _Manaketes? I've never heard of them. Are they related to Ninian and Nils?_

She added, "I sense some unusual aura from your body. It doesn't fit with the humans above deck. Hmm...but it doesn't match mine either. What are you?"

I replied, "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm human."

The woman visibly raised her brow, "Now I'm intrigued, I sense uncertainty in your heart. Looking more closely, I realize that your aura resembles something in between a human and something else."

 _Damn...I can't hide anything from this lady._

I said, "You're being a tad bit invasive right now don't you think."

She smiled awkwardly, and her dimples shone under the light. Any sense of formality evaporated.

"I'm sorry! It's just that I haven't had anyone to talk to for days since Abel stopped talking to me."

The comment took me off guard.

"Abel? Whose Abel?"

The manakete turned her head, landing on a position a few yards away from me.

She said, "That's him over there. One day he went to sleep and stopped talking. Ugh...those men probably roughed him up too much."

 _D-Dead?!_

Shifting my body towards my left, I felt a cold dead hand brush against mine.

"I think I'm going to be sick..."

The manakete frowned, "Please don't. If you lose all your food you'll die like them."

 _Them? How many people are in here?_

It took every ounce of strength in my body to heed her warning. The manakete gave an audible sigh of relief.

She said, "By the way mister, what's your name? My name is Lumina. It's important for someone to know your name you know? Any day could be your last, and any memory of you would vanish in instant."

 _She has a point...I don't feel safe here._

I replied, "Nice to meet you too Lumina, my name's Mark."

My heart felt warm as I recovered a little shred of humanity. Guessing from her dimples that radiated under the sunlight, I could tell she felt the same way. In pitch darkness and in chains, I knew at that moment that I had made a friend in the most unlikely place.

After some discussion, I discovered that my kidnappers were not the Black Fang. Instead, it was something just as terrible, slave traders. Traffickers have been treating Badon as a hotbed of operations for many years now, with their men wandering the streets looking for any lonely souls. I was simply at the wrong place at the wrong time when their gang fell upon me.

I learned some more things about Lumina as well. She had crossed the eastern seas with her family and a small group of her kind. They set up a settlement on the coast and lived in peace for many years. One day, a stray bandit came upon the settlement on a navigation error; he was dealt with immediately. Unfortunately, the manaketes came into contact with the bandit's body, and a brutal sickness rocked the community. They were not accustomed to the diseases that this new continent bore, and their numbers dwindled quickly. Eventually, only Lumina, her little sister, and a handful of survivors remained. With no sense of order along with a coming winter, the group dispersed across the continent, with many never seeing another of their kind again.

But Lumina and her sister stayed together. They went to Bulgar, and Lumina supported herself and her sister by fighting in the town's arena. It was dangerous work, but it gave them enough for a comfortable existence. Lumina was even put through school.

But this type of life was not sustainable. The populace was already disgusted with the barbarism that was the arena, but after the bloody death of a young man, tempers flared at his funeral. A mob carried his body over to the arena, and the building ignited as it became his funeral pyre. Lumina had always feared the day she would fall to another's blade, but ironically, it was the arena that fell before her.

With few other job prospects, the duo left Bulgar for Bern. Gladiatorial combat was still legal there, and they were already used to planting new roots. All they had to do was cross the border.

Fate had dealt them the wrong hand. They were a three day's march from the Dalphite river when they were ambushed. Bandits descended on the duo, and although Lumina was able to fend off many of them with her ax, she was quickly overwhelmed. She was incapacitated, and the following morning she was sharing a cell with her dear sister.

Lumina spoke with a pained voice, "How could I be stupid?! I knew the risks...yet my actions damned me and my sister! Elimine help me..."

I saw the reflection of a tear shine in the light. I held back the temptation to cry with her.

I said, "You did what you thought was best. You can't blame yourself for that..."

Lumina was approached later by some of the men that attacked her. She never forgot the expression of lust and villainy on their faces as they closed the cell door. They had the desire to make her regret ever lifting a hand against her. So, she was given a choice. Either let them have their way with her, or they'd have their way with her sister.

The experience was traumatizing not just for Lumina, but for her sister as well. The acts committed that night was enough the damn those men to the third circle of hell. As promised, no hand was laid on her sister.

Lumina began to bawl out and cry. I was powerless to comfort her, as my restraints made it impossible to move that far.

I said, "I'm so sorry. You don't have to keep going."

After some time, Lumina wiped away her wet tears.

She shook her head.

She replied, "No...I've been waiting so long to tell someone this."

Afterward, she continued on with her story. The bandits sold her and her sister to a slave trader based in Ryerde. They toiled its fertile wheat fields for several months, but then the worst thing possible happened.

Lumina was sold to a merchant in Badon. The time came without notice, and she was taken away from her sister without the ability to say goodbye...

"She was my everything...everything I lived for. I put myself through so much...risking my life...my sanity...even leaving a girlfriend I had in Bulgar. I did it all so I could be with her...my kin...my little sister. I want her back...so much."

I gave Lumina a comforting hug. I had nearly thrown out my back moving the weight so this could be possible.

I said, "Don't worry. Once we get the opportunity, we're going to bust out of here. We'll find your sister, and everything going to be okay. You and your sister deserve happiness."

Lumina sniffled, "I'm not sure if that's going to be possible...do you know where we're going?"

I shook my head, "I don't..."

Her red eyes met with mine, "They're taking us to the salt mines of Nabata. They're notorious for working their slaves to death. I...I doubt I'll ever get to see my dear sister again..."

* * *

 **A/N: Finals...so bye week here we come. Any sort of feedback really keeps me going, all reviews are greatly appreciated.**


	20. The Sands of Nabata

**Chapter 17: The Sands of Nabata**

 **From SodiumChloride12, derived from Fire Emblem, owned by Nintendo.**

 **A/N: I did...surprisingly well in Finals. Also there's a 50/50 chance that I'll be able to have something posted this weekend, in addition to this. I have some days where I'll be pretty idle.**

 **Also...I'm experimenting with making this series a bit more...interactive. With my growing reader base, I think I have a suitable sample size now. I posted a poll in my bio where y'all can vote on what topic y'all would like me to write in the coming weeks.**

 **Update: Url is having issues. Right now its only accessible by directly copy pasting. I'll try to fix it but this is the stop gap right now.**

 **A lot has happened. I have a book cover now, and it's Mark in full costume. As for the background...it's a bit of surprise that won't happen until the end of this intermediate period. Here's a hint: It's significant to his character development.**

 **N: The Nabatan Desert is a pitiful wasteland, completely incompatible for human life. Yet, our hero finds himself here. Devoid of most human contact, his mind becomes his only audience. With security tight, how will Mark return to Lycia now?**

* * *

 **Somewhere...in the middle of the Nabatan Desert...**

My pickaxe hit the white substance with a ferocity that caused a cloud of white dust to fill the air. The white dust traveled in the air and into my mouth, giving me parched lips. My body yearned and ached for moisture, but a man with a whip prevented any of us from taking breaks.

I was in one of the five major salt mines that made up Nabata's salt industry. These mines produced 90% of all salt in Elibe, and the commodity was incredibly valuable...more so than gold. This was a fact that was known to everybody, including the owners.

Salt mining is one of the most dangerous professions on the continent. More so than mercenary work. This is due to the horrid conditions that the mines provide. The overbearing sun, the constant threats of collapse and dehydration, and inhalation of heavy metals kept the mortality rate high. No one in their right mind would dedicate themselves to a career in the mines.

But wherever there is demand, someone will come in to fill the gap. Slave traders bring in able men and women from all around Elibe to the coast of tropical Missur, where they sell the much-needed labor for massive profits. The unwilling people are then forced to work in the mines, often to their deaths. This is a loss that the owners willingly take; with such huge profits on the line, the loss could be treated as a cost of doing business.

Lumina and I had been stuck in an unknown corner of Nabata for about two months. Our days consisted of us waking up at the break of dawn to a screaming overseer. An overseer was an enslaved worker who commanded over his/her peers, in exchange for privileges. We would then be given 15 minutes to scarf down a breakfast that consisted of a slim strip of pork, a slice of bread, a small portion of beans, and (sometimes) a fruit subsidy. After that, it was off to the mines.

The mining operation was divided into 3 different sections. They were extraction, transport, and shipping. Extraction was where the majority of the workforce operated, and it was also the most dangerous. This was where Lumina and I toiled day to day, and the rhythmic clatter of the axes against the white rock carried a metronomic tone. We worked without delay, not even under the direst of circumstances.

It was not surprising for a man to fall dead in the middle of his labor. It happened so often that the overseers were given a protocol for the event, consisting of them removing the body hastily to avoid a bottleneck in the operation. The work was rough, and all obstacles had to be removed.

Although I could feel my body deteriorating under the labor, I did see a noticeable improvement in one area. My feeble body had gained substantial muscle, causing me to gain weight along with the added strength. However, I knew these benefits were temporary, as the heavy metals accumulating in my bloodstream would eventually end my life.

The end of the day came at dusk. It would consist of the overseers ordering us to leave the mines and make for the showers. After a quick wash, we immediately went to the mess hall for dinner, and eventually to the barracks for rest. Then the cycle repeated itself over and over, never deviating.

I quickly realized how difficult it would be for us to escape. Under constant supervision, we were prohibited from speaking to each other, making it virtually impossible to organize. There was hardly any free time, making time extensive projects like tunneling to freedom difficult. The overseers also sowed a sense of distrust between the slaves, a fact I quickly discovered on day one. We entered through the camp gates greeted a haunting sight. It was the rotting body of a man who was hung to death; with the corpse oscillating about the pole due to the wind. We later found out he was an Etrurian who attempted to solicit aid from a fellow slave to escape but was ratted out by him instead. It appeared like escape was impossible.

As days turned to weeks, the mental toll that the mines were inflicting on me began to mount. What began as a seed of depression, quickly ballooned to feelings of anxiety and occasional spats of mania. The extended periods without meaningful human contact was becoming too much to bear, and I longed for it. My dreams were filled with my loved ones, and Lyn carried emphasis...

I miss her so much...and not just her either. Barthillas, Yanden, Matthew, hell even Sain...

Am I going to die here? Am I going to die forgotten in the wastes of Nabata? Without so much of a friend by my side. I had wanted to do so much. I wanted to marry the woman I loved, travel the world, have children, and see them grow to adults. Hell...I even had foolish desires, like learning how to play the guitar. Maybe even play a song for Lyn.

Her smile...I could never forget it. As time went by, I gradually began to forget some of the names of my friends...but I could never forget her...never.

I had to get out of here. I couldn't wait for anyone to do it for me. I had to do it on my own.

The mines gave me my opportunity.

I knelt down into a tight spot and chiseled down into the white rock. Banging into the hard substance, my metallic tool gave a distinct ring.

I did it again, and the same ring filled the air.

Lumina wouldn't happen to know Somme Code [Morse Code] would she?

Just to toy with the idea, I rhythmically dug into the mineral, spelling out Lumina's name. She was nearby and was the only person I felt I could trust.

"L-U-M-I-N-A?"

I closed my eyes as I hoped that she would reply. After a brief moment, I was rewarded with the periphery sounds of laboring tools. Open dust containing salt waltzed into my eyeballs, causing them to water. I groaned as I slowly tried to clear my vision of the nuisance.

 _It was foolish to think she could've heard me. She's probably deeper in the mine. Hell, even if she did hear it, its been so long. Maybe she grew to accept her new reality. An eternity mining this stupid rock. Who am I kidding? The only person I can rely upon is myself. Gah! I hate salt!_

I turned to continue my work before an overseer could harass me for being idle. Just as I was about to slam my pick into the mineral, a methodical ringing penetrated through the thick layer of dust and sound. The ringing immediately lifted my spirits.

"M-A-R-K?"

Although I hadn't known it then, Lumina had learned Somme Code while reading a book called _Obscure Non-verbal Languages_ at the library in Bulgar. Her sister had picked out the literature, and the duo bonded over the quirky little book. Back when days were simpler, they would spend hours wandering through the pages, amusing themselves as they made messages out of seemingly meaningless tapping. But that was a long time ago, and that memory was quickly gathering dust in the abyss of her mind. Yet, here she was tapping on the halite like an idiot. Any passerby's simply assumed she had gone mad, a fate that many in the mines suffered. No one was the wiser of the hidden meaning.

I dug my chisel into the wall, breaking off the salt with great haste. Salt quickly accumulated on the floor, and my overseer smiled as he saw all of the valuable product. He saw a hard worker, but little did he know of what I was really doing.

"By Elimine! If I had to go a day longer without speaking to anyone...I probably would've gone insane! How are you doing? Are you healthy? You feel alright?"

With my labor done, I gathered the salt from the floor and quickly put it in a nearby cart as another slave transported it to the surface. I was able to return to my spot just in time for me to receive another transmission.

"I was beginning to think I was going to die here. We're being watched...so we can only talk in bursts. Listen closely...I have a lot of information that may allow us to escape..."

We spent the working day relaying little bits and pieces of information that we thought might be relevant to our escape...

* * *

 **Later...**

Our camp surrounding the mines is divided into four administrative sectors, each with varying security. The first and most secure is the barracks, which is kept under constant surveillance 24/7. Just east laid the salt containers, the product of our labor. Since this was the source of income, it received the 2nd most surveillance. South of us was the overseers quarters, and at the opposite corner laid the expediting center. The expediting center was where all of the salt is packaged and transported to a port in Missur. Since this work was done by most trustworthy slaves, this portion was the least guarded.

Despite that, the security detail there was still daunting. High sandstone walls were manned by intimidating soldiers, along with nasty barb wiring across the tops. Although overseers wouldn't be watching our every move, those walls and those soldiers made any attempted escape difficult.

Besides, we'd have to get on the good side of our captors. I'd rather kill myself than suck up to those monsters.

I shifted my attention back towards my work. I considered all the information that I had gathered from our conversation.

I leaned back against the balls of my feet. The thick callouses on my heels numbed any pain I sustained throughout the day. Lifting my chisel away from the wall, I brushed thick salty sweat from brow. The white mineral latched onto my skin like a parasite, drawing away any well-needed moisture. I wasn't sure if I could stand another month looking at nothing but salt.

Ugh...it may be our only available option. Being under constant surveillance makes our chances very slim. Establishing some sort of trust between us and them could be exploited at a later date. But how would we get on their good side?

Picking up my tools, I began to make my way to the surface. My bones and muscles ached with the 12-hour shift I had just worked. Looking over at a fellow slave, our gazes met. He was an older brown-haired fellow, with salt covering his shirt all over. He breathed long, heavy breaths, a symptom of his years down in the mines. Judging by this, I predicted that he'd keel over in a year or two.

After a brief moment, he looked away. Men were executed for lower offenses, as all suspicions of frolicking among the workers were put down immediately. It was obvious why they prohibited this; allowing slaves to converse would breed trust among them. Trust leads to slaves gathering, gathering leads to organization, which would eventually lead to revolt. As cruel as they may be, the owners were an intelligent lot.

A voice called out to me. The shock of it caused my heart to skip a beat.

"You. The slave wearing purple. Come over here."

Quickly turning towards it, I almost allowed my pickaxe to fall onto the floor. It was our overseer. He was a tall man, and scruff black beard was filled with salt. He was obviously experienced, a product of his many years. Yet despite that, he appeared to be in much better health than the earlier man.

 _Lazy bastard. Making us work under these conditions so that he doesn't have to. He's a slave just like us, yet he doesn't hesitate to bring down his whip on us. He's just a tool of the establishment, a means to an end. If was given the opportunity...I wou-_

The overseer said, "I saw you working like crazy today. Most people will just work to match their quota, but you...you surpassed it by a mile. Everyone here is just trying to scrape by, some even go as far to break their tools so they don't have to work as much. You remind me a lot of myself when I first arrived here. A hard worker..."

I nodded to his compliments. I held back the temptation to stab him with my chisel.

 _If only you knew what I was actually doing. Lazy and stupid. No wonder you're content with your own exploitation._

He added, "Keep it up. Another performance like that and you'll be in the running for a recent opening."

That last comment made me pause.

 _An opening? What does he mean?_

Before I could ask, the Overseer had already disappeared into the winding tunnels of the salt mine. The area around me was quickly vacating itself of human life, so I made for the surface.

I covered my mouth as a gust of sand violated my lungs. A dust storm had covered the camp in a thick sea of yellow sand. Using memory as my compass, I wandered to the showers...

* * *

 **In the following days...**

Lumina and I spent the following days plotting. After initial reluctance, we decided that our best option would be to get a transfer to the expedition quarter. I eventually found out that the open position was not one, but two at our desired quarter. Luckily, weeks of rapid, rhythmic chiseling had already built us quite the rap sheet. Everything was going according to plan.

On our way to the mines, I was stopped by our overseer. Asking for my tools, I was told I would no longer need them.

I was sent away to the opposite end of the camp. Going through unfamiliar dirt roads and buildings, I realized I hadn't seen this part of the camp since my first day. I made sure to take note of everything, including the guard's quarters, the armory, and food depot.

Eventually, we made our way to my new home. The slave quarters were similar in style to my old one. Yet, the beds were a bit wider, and a curtain draped over the tops provided some limited privacy. Along with that, there was a water fountain stationed at the end of the building. The fact that this place even has plumbing amazed me.

The overseer said, "Welcome to your new quarters. I'm afraid I can't show you around; I have to bring over somebody else. As for you, choose a vacant bed and report to your new workstation. It's out by the expedition center.

 _The expedition center. I remember seeing it on my way here. Just a right past that block. Simple enough._

Before leaving, the overseer stopped at the door. Looking around the room, I sensed he had one more thing to say.

He said, "This is a luxury only given to certain slaves around here. I was here once...but I climbed the ladder to get to my current position. You don't have to spend the rest of your life like the others, you can work with the system and make yourself a tolerable existence. With that said...don't do anything stupid. Don't make me regret my decision."

He slammed the door shut. Silence filled the room, save for the raging gusts outside.

Looking outside the window, my heart sank as I gazed at a familiar sight. Directly in front of me laid the hanging man, shifting in the wind like a pendulum. The sight reminded me of the walkers in Rawmarsh.

 _Ugh..._

A rush of bile traveled up my throat. It took everything in my power to keep it from hitting the floor. Old memories did not sit well...

Lumina joined me shortly after. I found her while carrying heavy salt containers to a camel-drawn cart. Although I couldn't speak to her directly, due to the laxer surveillance I was able to sneak in phrases every so often.

We would work together as often as possible, but not frequently enough to garner suspicion from the guard stationed on the walls. Those guards ultimately became a mixed blessing, as they were allowed to talk among themselves. Through eavesdropping, I learned some important things.

Many of these guards came from the neighboring country of Missur since Nabata had no major population centers of its own. Missur is a tropical country filled to the brim with rainforests, varied wildlife, and delicious delicacies like chocolate. Due to competition from the chocolate, brazilwood, and medicinal industries; the salt mines had to offer a heafty wage to entice the guards to leave their home country.

Past the great Missurian mountains, nicknamed the "Rock shelf" for its part in keeping most of the ocean's moisture away from Nabata, laid three great cities. Saint Paul, Carazan, and Missur City. Although the country is fragmented like its neighbor Lycia, the similarities end there. Its people had darker, olive skin; an adaptation to the beating sun and higher temperatures. The famous rainforests that enrich the country, are also its greatest weakness. Uninhabitable to everyone but the most resourceful Missurians, Missur's geography makes it difficult to settle anywhere far from the cities. This forces the vast majority of transactions, whether it be goods or people, to arrive overseas. This disadvantage also led to a sense of ease between the three cities; due to isolation no real border disputes or resource squabble exists between them. No major war had gripped the nation for several centuries.

With that said, there was one path that connected Nabata to Missur. This was Oltorf pass, a "road" consisting little more than metal rods protruding from overgrown grass. Constructed by the salt mines companies to deliver slaves to the desert, it was filled to the brim with dangers like venomous snakes, aggressive natives, and the occasional trap. Lumina and I went through this pass after we were bought from our slavers in Carazan. It was not an experience I wanted to repeat again.

Though if this plan was to succeed, I'd have no other choice.

Speaking of which, I picked up one important piece of information from the guard's gossip.

The guards above us wore thick leather armor, as metal armor would've been too hot to wear in this weather. A duo of them was chatting away.

A yellow-haired man in his 20's said, "Tomorrow's the captain's birthday. Maybe we should throw a little something nice for him."

His companion, a woman in her 30's said, "I'm sure administration won't mind. If we gather everyone in the barracks for thirty minutes, I'm sure can give him a proper celebration."

The man's gaze fell upon. I quickly shifted mine towards the box as I was carrying. Passing off my cold sweat as a consequence of my labor, I was worried that they had caught on to my little act.

 _He didn't notice me eavesdropping their conversation, did he?_

After a moment that felt like an eternity, the man continued chatting.

"What will we do about them though? We can't just leave them here on their own can we?"

The woman laughed and put her hand on the young man's shoulder.

She said, "I wouldn't worry about it. These slaves are honestly some of the most _stupid, complacent_ , and _short-sighted_ individuals I've ever seen. They'd betray one of their own for scraps! It's happened before...and it'll happen again if they try to escape. Besides..."

She pointed towards the hanging man. Flies and maggots were feasting on his corpse.

"They'll know exactly what will happen if they try to defy us."

The young man smiled and burst into laughter.

"You're right! I don't know why I was worried. Let's think about what we should do for the captain. Oh! I heard that the captain likes chocolate cake..."

I angrily slammed the box into a waiting camel cart. If slighting me was their goal, then they had succeeded.

I began to think of ways I could exploit their arrogance. If we could somehow act without the other slaves knowing, we could make for the wall. Of course, scaling the wall would be difficult, moreso without any equipment along with the barbed wire. I was going to have to be creative...

* * *

 **That night...**

Lumina and I scampered through the dark corners of the camp, taking care to make as little noise as possible. The first stage of our escape was going well.

Through logical and deductive reasoning, I figured out that everybody besides the guards in the 1st quarter and the front gate were to attend the captain's party. With the complete and utter lack of patrols in the camp, Lumina and I were free to gather whatever supplies we need for stage two.

The guards had timed their celebration with shower time. Although this was a good idea, as it allowed for all the slaves to be visible in one place, it did not take into account for a minority that had clean-up duties after work. This was work that was usually left for newest and youngest members in the quarter. Since Lumina and I both fit those qualifications, along with no prior history of rebellion, the older slaves were happy to dump this responsibility on us. After a difficult 12 hour shift, everyone was ready to hit the showers to wash away the sand and salt.

But then again, one man's trash is another man's treasure.

Raiding the cafeteria, we procured enough food and water to last us a week. We followed up by raiding the supply shed. It was filled with equipment like rope, shovels, chisels, and pickaxes. Taking a handheld saw, I cut off the head of a pickaxe. Tying the head onto our stolen rope, I was able to craft a primitive grappling hook. Leaving the shed, we made sure to plunder some wire cutters.

We then made for the armory. Our reasoning for this was simple. In order to return home, we have two options. Option one is traveling around the Missurian mountains and entering through Lycia. Unfortunately, this would require us walking some 250 miles through the inhospitable desert, which would guarantee our deaths.

Our second option is coming back the way we came, through Oltorf pass. The path was dangerous, filled to the brim with wild animals, slavers, and other hostiles. We would need a weapon if we were going to stand any chance of reaching Carazan alive and free.

Forcing the door open, we were rewarded with a trove of arms. Lances, maces, swords, and daggers were neatly hanging in hacks.

Although my choice of weapon was obvious, Lumina's was a tad bit unexpected.

Taking the finest iron lance I could find, I spotted Lumina sporting a steel bow. Her quiver had about a dozen arrow, it's white feathers matching with the gleam in her hair.

I said, "I never took you for much of an archer."

She smiled, and she replied with a hushed voice, "Never took you for a lancer. When I first saw you, you looked like you would struggle to lift even a slim lance."

I felt a tinge of annoyance from the comment. How ironic it was. In our first vocal conversation in ages, I discovered that Lumina had some sass. It reminded me of a certain green nomad I had fallen in love with.

I replied, "Ah shut up. I'll deal with you when we get out of here. Come on...let's make for the-"

CREEEEEEEK! SLAM!

Time stood still as the door slowly creaked, and it fell onto the floor. Shifting my gaze towards the noise, I spotted the yellow-haired guard I had spotted yesterday.

He said, "What the h-"

The guard couldn't finish his sentence. Something flew in the air and slammed into his forehead. He fell onto the floor next to the broken door, and he was still.

Recovering from the initial shock, I realized that the object was an arrow. I looked over at my companion. Lumina didn't waste a second to end this man's life.

She said, "I hate them. All of them. When they see us, they see nothing but property. Something they have power over. But today, that changes. I have power over them."

A brief moment of silence filled the room. In the distance, I could here the chatter and laughter of our captors.

Taking Lumina's arm, I said, "We don't have much time. We have to go."

She took another look at her slain foe. The death was painless and quick. Had they been under different circumstances, she would have likely tortured the man...relishing every second. She had been through too much over these past few months not to.

But for now, she had to heed the tactician's advice. Seeing her kin again outranked any personal conflictions she had within herself. She had made up her mind a long time ago.

After gathering needed supplies, I surmised that we had about fifteen minutes until the guards returned. We made our way to the wall, and as expected, no guards were at their posts. Nothing but the glow of the full moon stood as our witness.

I heaved my makeshift grappling hook over my head, throwing it into a crevice above. Using gravity for assistance, I was able to slide it into a secure place. Giving it a tight pull, I concluded that it would sufficiently support our weight.

I motioned Lumina over, and we began scaling the wall. This was the most dangerous part of the journey, as the increased elevation made us much more visible. In addition to that, we'd be exposed for a prolonged amount of time as I would have to cut through the barbed wire that reinforced the wall. That's not even counting the time it would take us to scale up and down the wall. All in all, I predicted that we'd be through it in about ten minutes.

 _Ten minutes...is that enough time? We have about five minutes to spare to account for error...but you never know what can happen. I just hope I can cut through that wiring ASAP._

After some time, we finally reached the barbed wiring. It was thick and rusty; it had obviously not been maintained in years. It was fashioned in an "O" shape, with the metal clamped together. At one point, it was tensioned in a way to where the metal would snap back towards any potential cutters. But that time had long passed, and the metal fell onto the floor harmlessly as I cut it. In its hay day, this would've been a rather large deterrent, but decades of disrepair can weaken even the grandest of structures.

That being said, we cleared that obstacle with ease. My boots hit the wooden floor with a silent thud, and a slight pain brushed against the heels of my feet. The soles on my boots had worn away a long time ago, a causality of the constant abuse they went through. I hadn't able to buy new boots since my old ones were replaced at Castle Caelin, for obvious reasons. On the bright, side callouses built up around my feet had numbed a little of the pain...yay.

Lumina had joined me as well, with her slightly darker skin acting as a form of camouflage. Then again, her silver hair didn't grant her any favors in that department...it popped out under the crescent sun a blue raspberry in a red soup. In addition, her outfit was meant more as a deterrent against the sun's rays than for stealth. It was bright white, with long pants, tunic, and a hood to boot. Like me, she also chose to wrap some cloth around her mouth to keep out the dust. Her boots were brown and basic, and were on the brink of falling apart. At least she got some pretty good gauntlets; all courtesy of the mine's armory.

 _Fourteen hundred ninety-eight Mississippi, Fourteen hundred and ninety-nine Mississippi, Fifteen hundred Mississippi..._

About five minutes left. I had been keeping time since time since we had started our little incursion. When it comes to things like these...it helps to have a constant timer clicking in your head. Yet...

It's a little funny. I don't know who or what a Mississippi is. I just found myself instinctively using it to help me keep time, with no regard to its origin. Past information like that had been helping me since I first woke up in that ger. It forms the foundation of the vast trove of knowledge I had accumulated over the months and has allowed me to make significant findings in physics, geography, magic, and strategy. Although I don't know where this information comes from, I can't help but trust it. It had carried me this far at least. It's...

It's probably the reason I'm still alive today.

We began scaling down the wall at a breakneck pace. With less than five minutes remaining, the guards would return to their posts soon. Judging from the lack of archery weapons at the armory (Lumina had taken most of the equipment on her own) the guards only have one archer for each shift. Assuming that archer is placed at a random section of the camp, there would only be a 25% chance that the section we escaped from would have an archer upon arrival. This fact is significant because...

 _Ninety-eight...Ninety-nine..._

By the time we had traveled some distance from camp, we had finally run out of time.

 _Eighteen hundred..._

A guard made his way back to his post. He had gotten a little drunk from the earlier festivities...and his head ached, but work had to come first. The boss would be annoyed if the camp went undefended for too long. All he had to do was finish the rest of his shift and sober up later. There'll be no putting off work today, not if he were to get his holiday bonus. Triumph day was at the end of the month, and he was looking forward to treating himself when that day came.

He heard something from beyond the walls. Looking over his shoulder, he spotted two figures gradually wading through the sands. Their silhouettes were getting smaller by the second, and they could easily be mistaken for the wild animals that roamed the desert. But they looked...too human for that. Or did they?

 _By Elimine...alcohol is playing games with me again. My vision had been getting worse. I should get some glasses from that Optometrist in Carazan._

The guard dismissed the figures for wild animals. Had the guard been an archer, his eyes would not have made that mistake.

Thus we wandered out into the desert...with smirks across our faces. We were free.

Free at last.

* * *

 **Ostia...**

The cool breeze of the night flowed through the castle. A dim torchlight covered the room, making visible the stone walls. A bright red carpet covered the floor, with fancy embroidery resembling a dragon complimenting its likeness. Giant pillars resembling dragons on their hind legs kept the ceiling from caving in on itself. Paintings depicting great battles fought by the nobility of Ostia covered the walls.

An intimidating figure sat on a throne at the end of the room. Steps leading up to the mighty chair made it resemble a pyramid, granting a height advantage to anyone sitting on it. The figure wore green armor and a purple robe; his long blue hair could not hide the many scars across his face. His face wrinkled against the sunlight, reflecting an expression of concern.

The figure was not alone. A duo of guards sat at the opposite ends of the pyramid, and a shady figure wearing black stood opposite of the man on the throne. Despite the tension in the air, it was evident that these men were not enemies. Far from that.

The man in black spoke with a somber tone. One that didn't challenge the authority of the king, but had enough to correctly articulate every detail.

He said, "Lord Uther...we received intel that the tactician was spotted in a mine in central Nabata. Working as a slave. Security is tight...but we think that we can bribe the owner to secure his freedom."

Uther nodded, "I see...but I don't think that's a suitable option."

The man lifted his head, his eyebrows raised.

He asked, "However do you mean?"

Uther smirked. It was barely visible under the torchlight.

He replied, "You see...that mode of action assumes that the tactician is still under custody. But I believe otherwise."

Considering that man's exploits...he had learned to respect the tactician's intelligence. He wouldn't be in chains for long under those ruffians in the desert. He didn't consider any other possibility.

The man replied, "You don't mean..."

Uther erupted from his chair, and his subject could not help but feel his lesser. His blue hair and purple robe waved with the wind; the only relenting part of his physique that gave way to any external force. This was a confidence that Uther had earned through his own exploits, some of which were similar in character to the tactician.

A man he felt he could put his support behind.

Uther's voice boomed through the hallways of Castle Ostia. Somewhere in a dark bedroom, Hector raised his head wondering what all the commotion was about.

With a triumphant expression, he said, "Yes Miles! Not only do I believe that the tactician liberated himself...I believe that he is on his back to us as we speak! I must not leave my subjects behind...doing so would spoil our great name. Tell me agent, is his friends still in Badon?"

Miles nodded, "Yes milord, they believe he was accosted by a gang there. They've been searching for him for some time."

Uther eased himself back to his chair. Looking out a window, he spotted the same crescent moon that supplied the tactician with valuable moonlight.

He replied, "Tell them to procure to ship and head to Carazan as soon as possible. It's likely he'll go there since it's the closest port city. Besides...if he runs into any trouble..."

Miles said, "Then his friends could assist him correct? Carazan can be a rather nasty city."

Uther shook his head, "No it's not that. Mark has already been through so much, and there's no telling what his mental state is like at this point."

Miles paused. This particular detail intrigued him.

He asked, "Mental state milord? Our reports stated that the tactician was perfectly healthy."

Uther bit his lip. He realized he had just said something particularly compromising.

Saving face, he replied, "You're right about that. But it's still important he reunited with his friends. See that that happens as soon as possible."

Miles stood up and bowed his head, "Your wish is my command milord. It will be done."

He turned around and began to leave the premises. Although he was curious about Uther's little quip, he quickly forgot about it. If it wasn't his business, then it's best he stayed out of it.

Uther raised his voice, "Miles! Pardon, but I forgot to ask of something."

Miles faced his lord and saluted, "No need. Any moment with you his an honor."

He asked, "Send a messenger to Lyndis in Caelin. It's important we keep good relations with them, so we can't keep her in the dark."

Miles gave an expression of confusion.

He said, "But sir, that would compromise our identity. I thought you were going to wait until next year?"

Miles was right. Uther hadn't expected to reveal to the tactician that Ostia was the employer working behind the scenes. This was to ensure upmost secrecy. If anyone were to find out of his plans then it would be devastating to his mission. But at moments like now, a little bit of courtesy took precedent.

Uther replied, "I understand. Make it known to her that this is a sensitive matter. I don't believe she'll talk, especially since she knows we have all the leverage when it comes to her beloved's safety."

Not exactly ethical, but effective. Uther learned early on to use every available weapon he could muster, even if it was frowned upon by the Creator. It was important this secret stayed a secret.

Miles smiled and bowed once more, "You surely are a resourceful monarch milord. I will act at once."

Miles vacated the premises with his lord's blessings. With a mighty slam, the grand doors that complimented the throne room's entrance were closed.

Uther emerged from his throne and began making his way to the doors as well. The castle was filled with an eerie silence. It was a silence that resembled the calm of a storm.

Uther shook his head. Although Ostia was currently at peace, he knew that war would soon ravage his country once again. It was not a reality that he was looking forward to.

But was this the right thing to do? Supporting a known genocidal maniac. Was he truly grasping for straws here? Surely he could suffice with a tactician from the University of Ostia?

Walking through the familiar hallways, some of the walls were still stained with blood from old battles. His family had spent generations trying to rid the stone of the old crimson, but failed. The stone was cursed now, a testament to his country's violent history.

No...he couldn't do that. None of those tacticians have the experience that Mark has. None of them.

That's why he's having him complete some tests. After he was done, he would feel comfortable giving the tactician his trust.

His plan with Mark has to work. It has to. The fate of his country...and maybe even the world rests on it.


	21. Speechless

**Chapter 18: Speechless**

 **From SodiumChloride12, derived from _Fire Emblem_ , owned by Nintendo**

 **A/N: Semester was a success! With the school year now over, I have about 3 weeks until summer classes begin. With that said, I'll do my best to continue to pump out content at a weekly basis. If the course load becomes too much to bear (keep in mind I'll also be working an internship) I'll have to drop to publishing content at a bi-weekly basis. I refuse to hurry my story writing at the cost of quality. That being said, regardless I will continue publishing at a steady and consistent basis. That, I can promise until the time this story ends.**

 **Speaking about the story, I plan on writing more intermediate chapters than originally intended. The freedom that this period provides me is just way to convenient to let go immediately, and I plan to write more until I feel like I've provided enough plot and character development. Although I can't give you an estimate off the bat, I currently have about four future chapters storyboarded. More will follow as I continue through the summer.**

 **Enjoy the newest installment of Son of Mind and Bane. I worked hard on this, and I value every opportunity to improve my skills.**

 **N: While Mark continues his journey in the west, friends out east continue to live out their lives. Like Mark, they to deal with their own problems. One of these men is Sain, the talkative knight who was stricken with Tuberculosis at the final battle. He lies in his bed in wait, as his body continues to heal.**

* * *

The fire crackled in the darkness, with its plasmatic hairs lashing out against the surrounding hearth. Its light broke through the darkness, revealing three figures in a homely environment. The room they were in was a hospital ward within Castle Caelin, and one of the finer ones at that. It was well ventilated, well lit, had suitable furnishing, and was complimented with a huge comfortable bed. One of the dressers had an array of colorful flowers, quirky ornaments, and other gifts. Thick green armor shone under the fire's light, and it swung lightly on an armor stand.

Two figured stood by the bed. One of them was a lady wearing all white, and her blonde hair was neatly tied up into a bun. The other wore a costume that resembled a bird, and he was carrying some incense that smelled of lavender. Both spoke with hushed tones, respecting the healing of their bedridden patient.

The figure in bed had lime green hair strewn across his face. A thick beard covered the lower end of his face, with a mustache complimenting his face. Had the look been combed and maintained properly, it surely would've looked impressive.

His body was battered from the disease that ravaged his insides. The harm was extensive, with no individual system unaffected. Cardiovascular, muscular, skeletal, and even his nervous system. It was all damaged, but the worst had already passed. He was steadily recovering from the multi-month treatment that the doctor had put him under.

His chest rose up and down steadily, signifying healthy breathing. That detail came to the relief of the doctor and the nurse, who were busy writing down the patient's status.

The nurse placed her finger on the man's neck. A smooth pulse began to beat against it.

She said, "The patient is responding well to your treatment. It seems you're not a quack doctor after all."

Unfazed by the comment, the doctor replied, "Of course it did Taliyah. I've spent many years honing my craft. Did you spend eight years at the University of Ostia?"

Taliyah sighed. This was not the first time she heard this.

She replied, "No, but I did spend most of my life in the temple. I didn't really have a choice, my parents couldn't afford the take care of me."

The Doctor nodded with understanding. He had heard this story a while back.

He responded, "I see. It's unfortunate that you were not afforded the same opportunity as I. In another life, you probably would've been a good doctor."

Taliyah almost felt a surge of happiness from the flattery. But she knew better. She had known the Doctor for long enough.

The doctor grabbed the brim of his hat and brought it down. Somewhere behind that mask, she could tell that the Doctor was giving a mischievous grin.

"Not as good as me though."

 _Always the narcissist isn't he? Doesn't he know that he just makes himself look stupid?_

She held back the temptation to grab his bird mask and throw it into the fire in retaliation. She knew better though. No nurse works well when they're angry. She decided to change the subject before she got too immersed in the Doctor's games.

"I expect that the patient will make a full recovery. Should I go tell the princess of the good news? I'll have you know that she's been losing sleep over her friend's condition."

The Doctor gave an eerie pause. He shifted his gaze over towards his patient, who was oblivious to the new reality he was going to wake to soon.

Taliyah gave an expression of concern. The Doctor was never the type of person to so dramatically shift tone. She could hear the grandfather clock nearby ring as its hour hand hit twelve.

Unable to prevent her voice from trembling, she said, "I-Is something wrong with him?"

Taking a piece of parchment, he quickly jotted something down with a quill. At first, Taliyah was confused about the Doctor's sudden concern for secrecy, but she quickly understood the gravity of the situation.

 _Our patient might subconsciously hear us. Whatever the Doctor is writing down, it must be significant enough for us to omit from him right now. He has to focus on healing...not on whatever new thing he might have to live with._

Done with his work, he placed the quill on a nearby drawer. Turning the parchment towards Taliyah, the lettering was barely legible. The Doctor did not have the best handwriting.

Despite that, she was still able to read it. Reading the phrase letter by letter, she nearly fell back in shock in what she just read.

It read: _Complications from Tuberculosis had delivered irreversible damage to this man's vocal cords._

It was on that day that Taliyah realized something. Something that struck at her heart like a fatal wound.

Her patient, Sain, the Green Knight of Lycia, will never speak again.

* * *

 **Sometime later...**

Sain awoke facing a familiar ceiling. The same ceiling that had been gracing his eyeballs for the past several months. He had been recovering in this bed for several weeks, most of which he spent in a fever-induced coma. Occasionally, he'd have healthy spells where he'd awaken to eat some weird food, but his health would decline soon after. It was an endless rotation between health and death, and it was most certainly unpleasant.

Good thing it appears that his body has finally made a turn for the better, as that whole experience was not something he would like to repeat again.

He sighed and pressed his head deeper into his soft pillow. He recalled some of the faint memories he had gathered in his bedridden status.

 _I remember two people watching over me. An unpleasant, narcissistic birdman who's full of himself. A pretty, short blonde girl that was somehow able to keep up with him. I wonder who they were...maybe medical staff?_

 _I think I remember seeing Mark as well. There was a lot of noise going around so I couldn't tell for sure. I think I managed to wave at him however. I think..._

Most of his memories resembled a dreamy haze. Nothing was ever completely clear, and they were always in bits and pieces. To be completely honest with himself, he was unsure if they were real at all.

Lifting his head, he felt some light pressure around his temple. Nothing painful, just some leftover discomfort from the long fever. The queasiness of his stomach had long subsided, but his throat still burned from the constant expulsion of bile from his body. His arms and legs felt weak due to the weeks of being bedridden. It would take a long time to condition his body back into fighting shape, but that was an undertaking he would have to make a later time. Right now, all that mattered was that he focus on his recovery.

Although he had been bedridden for a long time, he still remembered his life before he was confined to these walls. He led the story of a somewhat honorable knight, sworn to protect the interests of his liege. He would spend his days touring the countryside of his native Caelin, and defending the people that resided in it. Fortunately for him and his country, war had not ravaged Caelin in over a century, so most of his days consisted of him looking after the common man. These days mostly made up of him simply talking to the people and running some errands, a duty that Sain had grown to enjoy. Although he would occasionally brandish his sword against bandits, nothing made his heart happier than taking care of the needs of farmers and village folk.

Sain smiled. Sometimes he'd run into a beautiful lass, and he did not waste the opportunity to speak to her. He'd flatter her hair or face, and the girl would usually turn away hiding some faint blushing. Unfortunately, he had built the reputation of being a player, and this simple fact sent away many potential girlfriends. It was an unfortunate reality indeed.

Reaching his hand towards the ceiling, he yearned for the time when he could once again take to his horse. He clutched it, imagining himself taking his horse's reins as he rode away into the Lycian countryside.

There was a little village just north of here, his hometown. He had grown up there as a commoner and longed for the time when he could return to it. He wanted to let them know that he was okay, and afterword spend some time with the village folk. Perhaps he would help little Billy chop some wood for his ailing grandmother? Or was that time better spent helping Aunt Freida bake bread? Maybe even spend some time conversing with locals at the bar? So many things to do, but he would make time for them when he was back to peak health. He would make sure of it, he was sure Lord Hausen and his granddaughter would not object.

Hearing a knock from the door, Sain half expected the familiar green-haired lady to emerge from the door. Instead, a lady covered in white entered the room. He immediately recognized her blonde hair from his dreamy hazes. Looking at her face, he spotted freckles on a clear canvas, a small nose, and perfect blue eyes. Her small figure was taller than his chest, with her hair resting on her shoulders like a blanket of light. The sight nearly took the breath away from the green knight. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

The woman walked towards Sain, and he could feel his heart skip a beat. Millions of unseen bugs began crawling in his stomach, the feeling intensifying with every increasing step. Unable to move, the green knight felt all confidence melt away as she came within an arm's reach.

 _What am I doing? I've never frozen up like this. What's wrong with me? Why can't I say anything?_

Reading the woman's face, Sain realized that she had a somber expression. The sadness in her eyes urged him to reach out and comfort the girl, but he found himself unable to do so. All he could do was watch her as her gaze met his. He recognized that the nurse had something to say.

"Hello...how are you feeling? Does anything hurt?"

Sain felt smitten by the woman's calm, serene voice. He spent a moment thinking about it, taking in the voice that resembled smooth butter.

The nurse slowly placed her hand on his throat. Although a gesture like this usually made him feel uncomfortable, he couldn't help but feel at ease. He noticed that the nurse frowned as she rubbed against it.

"This doesn't look good. Sain...can you speak?"

Sain immediately thought of how unusual the question was. Of course he could speak, he always could. His voice was his gift that allowed him to talk to villagers, woo women, and entertain his friends. He couldn't imagine life without it.

Shaking off his initial emotions, he finally gathered enough strength to speak. Opening his mouth, he began wording a response to her question.

Except nothing came out. Sain felt an extreme discomfort surround the lower end of his throat, and he felt a hiss leave his mouth as he strained his vocal cords. Pushing harder, he panicked as no words filled the air.

How could this be?

He immediately reached for his throat, rubbing it in vain as he continued to try to squeeze out even a whimper. Tears began filling his eyes as he began to realize his new reality.

He felt a smooth force grab onto his hands. His mind cleared as he allowed them to remove his hands from his throat. Looking towards the nurse, he was overcome with a sense of immense sadness.

She said, "I'm sorry Sain. You can't speak anymore. I tried to heal it...but...I...can't..."

The nurse rested her head on his shoulder, and it became wet. Sain realized that he wasn't the only one feeling pain.

She said, "I'm sorry...I failed you. Please...forgive me..."

He wanted to say comforting words to ease the girl. It wasn't her fault that this befell upon him after all. But he couldn't.

All he could do was place his arm on her shoulder and cry with her. Although he couldn't speak, the nurse understood what Sain meant.

 _This isn't your fault._

Sain's vocal cords weren't the only things broken on that day. Somewhere, littered on his bedsheets, laid his shattered soul.

* * *

 **Fall...**

Kent rode his horse up a solitary hill. Looking over the horizon, he observed the peaceful animals that congregated in the pasture below. White-tail deer, rabbits, ducks, and squirrels all feasted on green vegetation.

He felt a small tug in his tunic. It was his companion, the nurse Taliyah. As much as he'd like to admire the serene scene below, he had to return to his mission. To find his friend and fellow knight Sain.

The green knight had disappeared a couple of weeks ago. After being discharged from the Doctor's care, he walked out through the castle's front gate. Afterward, no one had been able to contact him since. This came to the great discomfort of himself and his liege.

Thus Kent was entrusted to find him. Originally, he was going to come to find him alone, but Taliyah had insisted on coming along as well. It was hard to say no.

 _Please, let me come with you. I was his nurse...and honestly, I feel a little at fault for this._

They had spent the past few days asking locals if they spotted the green knight. Unfortunately, Sain had left his green armor back at the castle, robbing any bystanders of his main defining feature. Luckily for them though, they were able to receive information about a hermit that had recently taken refuge in the surrounding wilderness. Even if the man wasn't Sain, he might still have details on his whereabouts.

The duo continued their trek through the forest. Kent took great effort in avoiding thorns, sharp branches, and other nuisances. Usually, he took no such precautions, as himself and his horse wouldn't even flinch against the vegetation. But he had to take into account his guest, and his knightly honor would not allow him to foolishly bring harm to a woman of the cloth.

Women of the cloth held a very special place in Kent's heart. How could they not be? His older sister was one after all. Women like his sister dedicated their lives to being devout Elminites. Due to this, they were tasked with many duties, such as temple upkeep, maintenance of holy relics, and delivering holy blessings in the form of healing spells. With so much to do, they were expected to never marry, as the reasoning was that they could not dedicate themselves to anyone else besides the almighty Creator. Kent and many others had grown to appreciate and respect women of the cloth for this, and thus here he was shielding one from the elements.

Taliyah took notice to Kent's labor.

"I appreciate your efforts sir knight. I feel quite comfortable."

Kent smiled. This cleric was much better than the last one he ran into a few months ago. She carried herself with much more grace than that screaming pink banshee. Her screeches still permeated the abyss of his subconscious mind.

All that he could do was nod in silence. Anything more would disrupt the peaceful chirping of the surrounding birds.

Kent continued guiding his horse through the old forest road. He spent the next several hours easily traversing through the relatively even terrain. The smooth pastures, clean rivers, and docile fawn and fauna almost made him forget of his purpose here. But despite that, he persevered, and he soon found himself at a clearing.

A solitary log cabin was tucked away behind a hill. Windowless and crude in nature, small clouds of smoke left its stone chimney, reaching for the sky. Its walls were covered in dirt, an attempt to waterproof the building. An ax laid stuck on a half split log. Nearby, Kent spotted a freshly plowed garden, with its earth dotted with seed. Whoever lived here had the intention to stay long term.

Kent approached the building, cautiously looking around for hidden insurgents. Satisfied with their solitude, he disembarked from his mount, bringing his guest with him. The duo then went to the front door, which had a doormat that at one point read: _Welcome_.

The red knight knocked on the door. With enough force to demand attention, but withholding just enough to convey no hostilities. Despite that, the door nearly fell out of its frame.

The door opened with a huge creek, and a raggedy, unkempt figure came before them. Kent covered his mouth in shock.

Had this been any other hermit, Kent surely would've maintained his wits. But this wasn't some hermit. It was his comrade Sain.

Initially, Kent couldn't believe his vision. Sain's eyes were one of sorrow, defeat, and contempt for his own soul. His unkempt hair was in stark contrast to the controlled chaos he maintained as a knight, with long strands of hair coming down to his shoulders. His outfit and lifestyle suggested that he was a being simply waiting for death, with no ambition or pursuit for greater meaning.

Kent realized that he was awkwardly eyeing his friend longer than he should have. Sain began closing the door shut.

Kent caught the door in an equally awkward angle, such as that the torque required to keep the door open took all of his strength. He was not about to give up on his friend so easily.

"Sain! Let us in! We want to talk!"

Taliyah grabbed the red knight's shoulder. Kent immediately realized he had chosen the wrong words to say.

"No! Not talk w-we just want to see how you're doing that's all!"

The battle over the door felt like it was never going to end. However, Sain was no engineer or even a decent handyman. Under the intense pressure, the door finally popped out of its frame.

SLAM!

The door fell onto the floor, and it shattered into countless pieces. Kent and Taliyah felt an immense sense of shame as they looked at the man behind the door frame.

At this point, it was obvious that Sain had given up all will to resist. Why would he? It had cost him a door after all. He turned and beckoned them to enter.

The scene inside of his shack nearly caused Taliyah to vomit. Maggots and cockroaches scrambled across the floor with each step they took. Termites feasted on the bare wood that composed the cabin. The utter lack of ventilation made her feel like she could suffocate at any moment. The filth and squalor that infested the hermit's abode came in stark contrast to the clean temples she had grown accustomed to.

Regardless of the unpleasant odor, the duo held their complaints and took a seat by a rickety table.

Sain took a seat opposite of them, his hair now touching the table's surface.

Sain had obviously changed. Gone was the beacon of positivity, lover of women, and giver of a crude joke. All that laid before them was a husk, a shadow of Sain's former self.

An uncomfortable silence filled the room. Recognizing Sain's disability, Taliyah revealed some parchment and a quill from her robe. Kent responded in kind, adding an ink well into the mix.

Kent asked, "Sain...it's been a while. How are you?"

Sain took one good look at the assortment before him. Taliyah nodded in approval. Although initially hesitant, Sain took the ink and pen. He began writing on the provided parchement.

He wrote, "Fine."

The pair could tell he was obviously lying. His standard of living told them that much. Kent decided to dig deeper.

"Why did you leave us? You know you always have a place with at Castle Caelin. You didn't even come by to say goodbye."

Sain's gaze was fixated towards the floor. Shame was written all over his face.

He wrote, "I can't work...much less be a good soldier. I'm holding the army and Caelin back. I have no place here."

Those words stung the duo hard. They couldn't believe that Sain had fallen so far.

Taliyah could understand Sain's plight at a personal level. She had gone through something similar a long time ago when she was abandoned at the temple as a toddler. The feeling of being unwanted breeds an environment that can infect the mind with terrible thoughts. Depression, anxiety, sleepless nights. Those were all things that Taliyah had to deal with at an early age, and it took her years until she finally had the strength to overcome it.

Now her former patient was in pain, just as she was all those years ago.

Sain added, "What's a man if he can't even feed himself? Leave me here, and let me suffer alone. I've already grown numb to the pain."

Not a tear fell from Sain's cheek. For a second, Kent pondered if his friend had lost his humanity. Taliyah understood what she had to do.

Ignoring her nose, the young cleric wrapped her arms around the green knight. The gesture took Sain by surprise, and he stood fixated in shock. His mind was sent into shambles.

 _Why...why is she doing this? All I'm doing is dirtying her clean clothes..._

She said, "I wouldn't worry about my robe. A little dirt doesn't mind me much."

Time seemed to stand still. Sain looked at his surroundings. His best friend was sitting on a rickety chair of his own making, his face one of concern.

In his arms was the girl who worked so hard to save his life, but could not save his voice. The most beautiful, graceful, and serene person he had ever come across. In his eyes, a queen among queens. Such royalty should want nothing to do with filthy commoners like himself, even if he was a former knight.

But here she was, so close to him that he could feel her breathe. Each passing second brought more and more life into Sain's body.

He looked towards his friend, and then towards Taliyah who had begun to sob silently on his shoulder. The scene was very familiar, and Sain wanted to do something he couldn't do before.

A fire ignited from within the green knight. Warmth filled his consciousness as he began to feel once again, bringing along with it his shrewd confidence. Emboldened, Sain reached his hand towards the nurse's cheek, allowing a tear to hit his finger before it could hit the floor.

The red knight said, "Sain?"

Sain looked towards his friend, his soul being included into a youthful inferno. The green knight's eyes reminded Kent of their first day at boot camp.

 _Valor. Arrogant confidence. Ladies' man. Heroism._

Amid the wilds of Caelin, many days removed from the nearest village, birds hummed a friendly tune. The sun hung high in the sky, delivering its nourishing rays into the vegetation below.

A soul was formerly lost within that vegetation. Had he been left to his own devices, he surely would have stayed that way. At dawn, Kent the red knight and Taliyah the cleric treaded through the forest. By dusk, an additional member had joined their party as they left the trees. After weeks of isolation, Carlin's favorite son finally returned home.

* * *

 **Some time later...**

Sain's hand trembled as he struggled to raise his beverage. His muscles were weak from his morning rehabilitative workout. If the green knight was to return to fighting prowess, then he was going to have to bear with many more days like these.

Sain was having lunch in a tavern at his hometown. The structure was simple but carried a flamboyant personality. Villagers of all sorts of trades and lifestyles congregated here for their lunch break, often spending the time trading wacky stories. His village was always known for being different than the others, with many carrying themselves in a less traditional way. This was personified in the form of the town's mayor, who was a woman, the only known female mayor in Caelin.

"Sain! There you are!"

Sain turned his head to see Taliyah. Her small frame was struggling to open the large tavern door, and her white dress contrasted greatly with the relatively dark environment. One of the guests, out of respect for her position, helped her by opening the door. Taliyah's face went red with embarrassment.

"T-Thank you."

If Sain could audibly laugh, he would have. He probably would have died doing so.

The flustered cleric took a seat by the green knight. She avoided eye contact with him in an attempt to save face.

"Ah...um...hmm..."

It took everything in Sain's strength to keep a composed face. Even then, Taliyah couldn't help but notice his smiling face.

She gave an expression of disdain and annoyance.

"Come on...it wasn't that funny!"

 _Damn...even when she's mad she's cute as hell. Why does a lady like her have to be a woman of the cloth?_

The blonde dropped a book onto the table. It was a piece of literature obtained from the capital, and its fresh bindings suggested it was new. Its title read, _Non-Verbal Communication for the Speechless_.

Taliyah rolled her eyes, "If you won't respect me then you can forget about today's lesson."

Sain responded by pointing at himself and then bunching his fist. He followed up by making a circular motion around his sternum.

"Sorry..."

She laughed, "It's no problem! I was just messing with you after all!"

She flipped the book over to a new page, passing over a chapter that demonstrated how to say sorry. They had passed over that chapter a few days ago, and recently they've been going over some of the more difficult material.

Sain smiled as he looked at all the new ways he can communicate with those around him. Taliyah had gone out and acquired a sign language textbook from a friend she had in Ostia. The book was the first of its kind, the product of a mute professor who toiled for a way to communicate with his wife. Once successful, the fruits of his labor was printed and distributed across the country, eventually finding its way into Taliyah's possession.

Making motions with her hands, the cleric demonstrated a greeting.

"Hello, nice to meet you!"

Sain replied, "Nice to meet you too...!"

Lifting his head, the green knight realized he never had the opportunity to formally introduce himself to the young cleric. Nor inquire about her name.

 _All this effort she's putting into me and I don't even know her name. Well...now's a good a time as any. Just introduce yourself and ask for her name, no biggie._

But thing was, Sain hadn't progressed that far in his training yet.

Moving his hands, Sain said something that caused Taliyah to blush deeply. Her face resembled a tomato.

"My name is Sain. I'm a green cabbage from Caelin. May I ask for your name? Your presence pleases me."

Sain gave a confident smile.

 _I think I said that correctly right? Even said "Your continued presences beckons me to ask" at the end there. Wait...why is she blushing so hard?_

Taliyah's mind was in shambles. All she could do at the moment was flip some stray hair that had fallen near her eye.

"Sain...it's Taliyah. Did...did you really mean that?"

 _Mean that? Of course I meant that! Why wouldn't I?_

He replied, "Of course! You've done so much for me after all, and knowing your name makes my heart happy. I don't know where I'd be if it wasn't for you and Kent."

He placed his hand on the cleric's shoulder. The nurse was at a loss for words as her eyes met with Sain's.

"Taliyah...that's a beautiful name. It suits you."

This was simply too much for Taliyah's little heart to bear. She pushed herself away from the green knight and made a beeline for the exit.

"I-I'm s-sorry! I just remembered the Doctor wanted me to run some errands! S-See you tomorrow!"

She opened the tavern door, this time with much less effort than last time. The adrenaline pumping through her system made that task much easier.

She disappeared into the bright light beyond the door. She left a baffled Sain and her book at the table.

 _Errands? She usually gets those done before we meet._

 _Was it something I said? I was just trying to be friendly..._

Outside, Taliyah wandered her way to the nearest chapel. Locking herself alone in a storage closet, she struggled to deal with some new emotions.

Sweat fell down the sides of her face. Her hands trembled with newfound anxiety.

 _What are these feelings? Love? No...it can't be._

 _I can't fall in love. My heart is bound with the church. I can't give it to anyone else. Even if Sain is such a strong...charming...hand-_

 _No! I know what will happen if I try to entertain these emotions. I'll fall for him...and then I'll be kicked out of the sisterhood. I can't have that! My fate...no my destiny is with the church. It's all I've ever known..._

 _I'll just have to cut him off from my life. But what about his lessons? He's smart enough to teach himself, but if I was there he could learn much faster! He needs a teacher to help him get back to fighting shape!_

 _His teacher...yes, that's all I'll be to him. I'll teach him how to talk so that he can tell me some more of those honeyed words..._

 _Ugh! What's with me! No! Why am I so confused?!_

Taliyah raised her head towards the door. She had heard some knocking. A young boy's voice penetrated through the wood.

"Um...sister Taliyah? I kind of need my broom. The hallway out here is pretty dirty."

Taliyah looked down on her dress, and immediately felt a sting of guilt. Her mind was so preoccupied that she didn't notice that she had tracked a trail of mud across the chapel.

Opening the door, a small boy no older than ten years of age stood near a trail of wet dirt. The trail was impossible to ignore.

Taliyah wished that she had died right there.

The boy spoke with a soft voice, young and innocent in nature.

"Sister...um...can you hand me the broom? It's my job to make the church spotless...it's my duty."

The boy was likely an orphan like herself. No, she was certain he was.

Taliyah sighed. There was no way she was going to let this boy clean up her mess on his own.

She took two brooms and gave one to the boy. The boy had a confused expression on his face.

"Come boy. We'll clean this mess together."

Taliyah spent the rest of the day cleaning up the mess with the altar boy. Although she tried her best to focus on her work, she couldn't help but think about the young speechless knight he left at the tavern...

* * *

 **Nearby...**

Out here in Caelin, Lyn only found herself wanting two things. Her beloved Sacea, and her beloved tactician. She longed for the time she could return to both, but that was simply not possible at this time. Her tactician was out Elimine knows where; the last letter she received from him was in July. Her country was out of reach, and right now she favored her own family over her birth land.

The Lycian wind breezed through her body, chilling her to the bone. A cold front from Illia? Perhaps even Sacae. Regardless, the princess found herself wanting to stay perched at the hilltop. The simple possibility of it being the former beckoned her to do so.

She looked at the farmers who were working their fields below. She had spent the morning helping them prepare for the harvest. Unwilling to stay cooped up in that castle all day, this was her way to stretch her legs while giving back to the common folk. It was quite the incursion as well, her body was filled with sores and blisters from the labor. But it was all worth it as she was able to use the opportunity to familiarize herself with some of Caelin's citizens.

She closed her eyes as she remembered all the bright new faces. Old, young, they all showed gratitude as the Lycian halfling put herself in their shoes. Although garnering their respect wasn't the goal, it had surely been accomplished.

She heard the neighing of a familiar horse behind her. Looking down the slope, she spotted her chief retainer, the red knight Kent. His armor still had strands of hay from earlier.

She asked, "Something the matter?"

After helping the farmers, Lyn had sent Kent away to let her grandfather know that she was okay. She had been gone all day, and she didn't want to worry her only family.

To completely honest with herself, that wasn't the only reason she sent Kent away. She desired some alone time to wander around in her thoughts for a bit. Still, she didn't expect the red knight to return so quickly.

Kent calmly approached his liege. Digging his gloved hand into his cloak, he extracted a white letter with an important looking seal at the front. Wincing her eyes, she recognized the seal to be of the Marquess of Ostia.

Kent said, "This letter was sent from the capital. It's messenger said it requires your immediate attention. I hope I didn't cause too much of a bother."

 _A letter? From marquess Ostia? I swear if it's another marriage proposal, he'll have to waste his time somewhere else. I'm fed up with these coddling nobleman!_

Taking the envelope, she said, "I'm almost scared to open it."

Kent sighed. He understood Lyn's situation completely. Despite her grandfather's best efforts, men from throughout Lycia have been trying to garner the favor of the newest heir to Caelin...

Earlier that month, Lord Hausen threw a banquet to celebrate the arrival of his granddaughter. Many visitors came from far and wide, some coming from as far as Illia. Although his lord had meant well by doing so, this party attracted many pestering suitors.

Despite the men's advances, many of whom proclaimed their undying love, Lyn saw through their farce. They simply wanted to be next in line to inherit the throne of Caelin, a land whose people Lyn has grown to love and appreciate. Even if she had felt compelled to marry, there was no way in hell she was about to leave the lives of her citizens under the guise of one of those snakes.

Besides, Lyn was only 18. She was way too young to marry. Maybe further down the line she'd settle down with someone nice. She already had a general idea who that person may be.

She opened the letter. To her relief, it was not a marriage proposal. But upon further reading, she realized it was something much worse.

The letter was brief and to the point:

 _Dear Lyndis,_

 _Your tactician has been captured and has been enslaved by the salt cartel in Missur. I believe he has escaped recently, and I have agents waiting to intercept him in Badon. They will travel to Carazan, which is where we believe he will go next._

 _I do apologize for this...our agents were careless with his safety. Rest assured that he will be found, and his life will not be lost._

 _We will update you with any new information. I believe you deserve that much._

 _From, Uther._

 _Marquess of Ostia._

Kent saw as his liege dropped the sheet onto the grass. The wind immediately picked up, and he grabbed it before it could fly away.

He asked, "Is something wrong?"

Lyn looked at her knight with a fire in her eyes. Kent hadn't seen this part of her since she took down her granduncle all those months ago.

Lyn was never the type of person to simply allow wickedness to affect her or her loved ones. She was always the type of person to face adversity head-on.

She drew her sword and dug its blade into the dirt. A Lorcan tradition, a call to arms.

She said, "Kent, ready your things. You and I are going to go find Mark."


	22. Old Pains

**Chapter 19: Old Pains**

 **From SodiumChloride12, derived from Fire Emblem, owned by Nintendo.**

 **A/N: I drove out into the Midwest, going through the heart of America. There, I saw firsthand the destruction that fell upon much of it. In Iowa, I saw the flooding that covered acres and acres of farmland. In Missouri, I saw the destruction that rocked their capital city. Y'all have my condolences, and I wish you guys a speedy recovered.**

 **As always, any and all reviews are welcomed. Flame me if y'all want. Just kidding! Constructive criticism is any writer's best tool.**

 **N: Mark realizes how futile humans can be in an unfamiliar environment. A secretive civilization looms over the horizons.**

* * *

We stumbled across the uneven ground, our bodies weakening with each step. Our clothes were torn and tattered, with the fabric still yellow with desert sand. My boots had nearly completely worn down, and Lumina was forced to walk barefoot. Her feet were bloody from the prickly jungle floor, leaving a trail of crimson for as far as the eye can see. Wounds, new and fresh covered our bodies. Bandages covered over some of them, as we had run out of them a long time ago. The bright sun penetrated through the thick canopy, falling onto our burnt skin like knives.

We had since left the Nabatan Desert and were on our way through Oltorf pass. We had used up all of our supplies traveling through the desert, and the plan was to live off the land as we continued through the rainforest. Unfortunately, I had no idea what type of mess we'd be getting ourselves into.

Danger lurked at every corner. Vicious, wild animals infested the forest. Jaguars, eagles, and a variety of highly venomous snakes attacked us at least once every day. Although we'd successfully fend them off, the knowledge that a wild animal could catch us off guard completely terrified us. Neither of us could get any sleep as we feared a night ambush.

I felt sick to the stomach. We couldn't hunt, and despite the high moisture content in the air, water was hard to access. Crocodiles and other dangerous creatures waited underneath all bodies of fresh water; no rivers existed within the country of Missur. Thus, we had to make do with very little, with dry mouths and our stomachs churning with each missed meal.

The tip of my lance was rusty after its iron core oxidated with the surrounding humidity. The new substance flaked off with each new excursion, yet somehow it still managed to maintain its weight. My hands had painful blisters after constant contact with the shaft, and they were at the cusp of bursting. A similar situation was befalling Lumina, however, she only had three arrows left in her quiver.

Whether it had been my incompetence or sheer arrogance, I had surmised that we would've been able to clear this pass in a week. However, it's been nearly five days, and we haven't even crossed the midway point yet.

I hadn't felt this tired in my life. Each step sapped more and more strength from my body. As the day progressed, my vision was clouded with a blurry haze.

The tropical trees around me became nothing more than stray brown lines on a canvas. The vines blurred out of sight, and a sloth seemingly descended from a branch above. Bright colors became dull, and dull colors became null. The surrounding sounds of the rainforest dimmed until it came to utter silence.

I felt reality begin to slip away...I allowed myself to be engulfed in the void.

The world around me began to spin, so much so that it was nauseating. The sloth in front of me opened its mouth, letting out an awful screech. Darkness engulfed its body, twisting and contorting its body until nothing but a black sphere remained. Ominous golden eyes erupted from the sphere, staring me down.

A voice emerged from it, and it carried a sinister tone.

 _ **?:** Hello. Pleased to make your acquaintance..._

I tried to speak, but I found that to be impossible. I tried moving my body, but I found that impossible as well. I panicked over my utter lack of control. Oddly enough, I thought the voice sounded familiar.

 **M:** W-who are you? Why does your voice sound familiar?

Those eyes continued staring at me, seemingly analyzing my very soul.

 _ **?:** Don't fret. I'm not Nergal. Rather, I'm someone of much more importance. Someone you can consider your enemy, and bitter rival._

 **M:** Rival? I don't have any rivals.

The sphere got noticeably angry, and its eyes turned a hellish red.

 _ **?:** How dare you! How can you not recognize me! After everything I've done! I should just-_

The orb paused as if another thought crossed its mind. After a brief moment, it gave a devilish smile.

 _ **?:** Perhaps this will jog your mind. Doing this again won't be difficult._

I blinked, and I was instantly transported to a familiar location. It was the same place that haunted my dreams.

Hordes of dead sacaens laid at my feet. The surrounding flames sent the temperature rising, and a steady stream of sweat developed around my body. The area reeked of death.

The sphere laughed at the scene. He found it completely amusing.

 _ **?:** What's wrong Tactician? Feel a bit off? Are you going to lose your mind?!_

Had the orb shown me this at the beginning of the adventure, I surely would have caved. However, I had seen this scene so many times that...

I had grown completely numb to it.

Instead, a new flurry of emotions flooded my brain. Instead of fear, I felt anger. Any disgust at the situation was directed towards the sphere at the center of it all.

Yet, I was powerless to act on it. My body was still motionless.

The orb looked back towards me as if eyeing potential prey.

 _ **?:** How ironic it is. The anger you feel is the same emotion I felt when that chieftain locked me away into the abyss of your mind. I tried to return and seize our body, but a mental barrier prevented me from doing so. All I could do was wander around the back roads of your mind, effortlessly waiting for the off chance that your mind would fail. But I knew that would never happen, unless..._

The area around me morphed again, transforming into another memory that haunted my mind. It was the memory of when Azazel murdered Lyn's parents.

Then he changed it again, to the time when Azazel set fire to an entire building full of defenseless innocents.

 _ **?:** You see unless I acted...I knew you'd never go to that breaking point. I flooded your dreams with these memories with the hopes that your mind would eventually break. It was a flawless plan, and it would've worked too if it wasn't for that sniveling princess._

I was reminded of the image of me crying on that hill all those months ago. Had Lyn not been there to lend her shoulder, I surely would have kept those emotions within myself. It was too much pain to deal with alone.

Too much.

 _ **?:** But now, she isn't here to save you. Although the effect of your nightmares wasn't enough to send you over the edge, this delirious mess you got yourself into was. Finally...it will be you who will be watching from the sidelines! I will take your body and fulfill my destiny!_

The black sphere injected himself into my body, causing it to spasm uncontrollably. A glow erupted from my body, covering the entire area in the light as it fought against the darkness.

It was at this moment when I realized that the sphere may have overplayed his hand. It sputtered out of my body into the ground, shriveling like an ant that had just gotten stepped on.

It howled in pain.

 _ **?:** What?! How...is this possible? Your mental barrier...it should have been..._

I looked at the incapacitated black sphere. It stopped shriveling and laid still. It was at this moment when I realized he was paralyzed like myself.

 _ **?:** I can't believe I failed. I've done so much..._

I put all of my strength into a smile. I was able to break through the unseen confines and let my skin move.

 **M:** You didn't do enough. Now I know you still exist. Azazel.

The orb frowned. It morphed until it formed a silhouette that resembled mine.

 _ **A:** That obvious huh? It's a shame that of the intelligence comes from your side. Master Nergal overlooked that part I admit._

I looked at my seemingly equal half. With both of us immobilized, it was awfully convenient that we could still communicate telepathically.

 _ **A:** Why don't we take a seat and get to know each other? Considering we won't have a body in a few hours, it'll make the time go by faster._

 **M:** How about you let me go so that I can find a priest that can send you back to hell?

Azazel rolled his golden eyes. It was clear that my comment disturbed him quite a bit.

 _ **A:** Come on Mark, give me something to work with here? Either I let you go, and I die. Or I don't, and I still die. How about you give me control of your body on alternating weekends? With visitation rights?_

 **M:** This isn't some custody battle. I don't know where you're from, but I wouldn't be surprised if Nergal derived you from some demon. Also, let's not forget that you're a genocidal maniac. I thought Azazel was someone who didn't feel any emotions? The perfect cold unfeeling killer.

A smile broke through his face. It was as vile and disgusting as his personality. His eyes resembled those of a bloodthirsty sociopath. It was eerie, considering he looked like me.

 _ **A:** You really don't know?_

 **M:** I'm almost scared to ask.

 _ **A:** Hehehe. I'll tell you why just this once. In the beginning, Nergal created a being, a morph. Wanting to create a creature more vicious and more powerful than anything he made before. So he ventured deep into the land of Fibernia and came upon the tomb of an ancient Demon King. This Demon King was known to rule a great kingdom in a time before the scouring, and used his high proficiency in the magical arts to enforce his will upon others. He embarked in a reign of terror that murdered the majority of the inhabitants in Fibernia. This king's name...was Azazel._

Fibernia...a land far east. I had no idea a kingdom even existed there, but I do know one thing. The population there is so small that Etruria easily made the country their colony. If what Azazel is saying is true then...

 _ **A:** Azazel murdered so many people in Fibernia that the people eventually fought back. They stormed his castle and burned him at the stake. Yet, despite all that, Azazel had the last laugh. By killing so many of their countrymen, Fibernia's population was crippled for centuries. A powerful neighbor, Etruria, grew in considerable strength. When the time came, they simply filled the power vacuum. Now they answer to the tyranny of Etrurian nobles, as opposed to Azazel's descendants._

 **M:** But how is that possible? If Azazel was killed, then how did you come to live in the ninth century?

 _A: King Azazel and the being you see before you are not the same person. When Nergal went to the tomb, he successfully extracted some of the former's DNA. Using that DNA, he constructed a morph that was every bit of evil and powerful as the King was. But...there were complications._

 **M:** Being?

 _ **A:** The being was too much like the King. Upon birth, he immediately turned on his master and attempted to kill him. Without a tome, the morph failed miserably and was put down. However, Nergal could not live with this failure. He continued producing Azazel morphs, with varied results. But all failed due to one fundamental reason, King Azazel's nature is too ambitious and too self-centered to ever follow a master. Thus, Nergal had to create a morph that did not have these traits if he were to succeed._

 **M:** What do I have to do with this?

 _ **A:** Nergal came to the conclusion that not one, but two personalities should be fused in order to create his premier morph. But in order to do that, he had to find a personality that was every bit the anti-thesis to Azazel. No ambition. Wisdom over strength. Humble. Awkward when around women._

Ouch.

 _ **A:** He found that personality in a young man from another world. He was nothing more than a sprinkle of stardust that fell outside of Nergal's window. He was too convenient not to use, the man didn't even have to go far to find him. Some would say it was...divine intervention._

I was stricken with an intense sense of deja vu. Stardust...why does that seem familiar?

 _ **A:** He put the young man into his next Azazel clone, and this time it was a major success. The personalities effectively canceled out, creating a senseless abomination that blindly followed orders. Nergal was so pleased with himself that he immediately made this morph his favorite. All was going well for Azazel until he was sent on his first mission in Sacae._

 **M:** Hassar threw an ax at us, causing me to emerge. I know that much.

 _ **A:** That's only part of the story. You see, when that chieftain threw the ax, the pain of the blow literally caused our personalities to cleave apart. Before then, Azazel was protected so much by Nergal, that he never had the opportunity to get hurt. But when he finally did, Nergal's prized experiment immediately fell apart. Our personalities briefly fought for control of our body, but I was defeated. Although I didn't understand why then, I do now._

 **M:** Flatter me.

 _ **A:** You never were just a personality. When Nergal picked up your stardust, he didn't pick up a copy of a human being. He picked up a genuine soul. He unknowingly put you in the clone, and when we were cleaved, your superior power beat me out for control. I was nearly deleted from existence, but I survived. Healing from my injuries, I waited until I had enough strength to strike. That time finally came at the final battle with Lundgren. When you delivered that do-or-die strike, you foolishly allowed your mana levels to drop so low that I was able to shut off your access to my gift entirely. Now I have possession of that gift, right where it rightfully belongs._

That's why I couldn't use magic against Rath. This bastard stole it at his first chance! He almost got me killed!

 _ **A:** I knew you wouldn't last long with magic, but somehow you continue to surprise me, Tactician. You found friends stronger than you, while you try to poke at people with your tiny stick. They do all the work while you take the credit. I thought I was evil._

 **M:** I lead them to victory. Don't discount my accomplishments. You know just as much as anybody that I haven't lost a battle yet.

 _ **A:** Not yet. How long do you intend to continue to fight without my gift Mark? Or rather...should I say, Samuel?_

 _ **M:** Sam-?_

Suddenly, I was inflicted with an intense headache. It was more fierce than any migraine that I had ever experienced in my life. All I could do what grit my teeth as I tried to endure the pain.

Concurrently, I felt a flood of memories fill my mind. It all came in a flash, catching me completely off guard. I saw bits and pieces of another life, in a world completely unfamiliar than my own...

A flood of lights overwhelmed my vision. Looking around, I saw a sea of red. People around my age were wearing long gowns and fancy hats with small strings across the right. A voice erupted from a podium in front of us, and we switched the string from the right to the left. We then threw our hats into the air, and I felt a sense of triumph...

I then found myself at a different location. I was on top of a bridge made of white and black rock, and I heard a gush of water below me. Walking towards the edge, I spotted a large murky river. It was bigger than any river I had ever seen before. Looking around, I spotted the looming arches of the bridge above, along with miles upon miles of green trees.

I blinked, and I realized that I had returned to my initial position with Azazel. The headache had long subsided, and I had so many unanswered questions. Despite the pain I went through, I found myself wanting more.

 **M:** W-What was that?!

Azazel broke in a short, cold snicker. Locking his golden eyes with mine, he knew he had played his trump card successfully.

 _ **A:** Something interest you tactician? Those were the memories of your previous life. If you'd like to see the rest of it, I'm interested in making a deal._

I didn't want to make a deal with the devil. But the promise of learning about my past was too intoxicating of an opportunity to miss. This could be huge.

 **M:** How did you find these...how is that even possible? Tell me this and I'll consider your terms snake.

 _ **A:** I was stuck in the inner confines of your mind for a long time. While rummaging through the unknown corners of it, I stumbled across some memories of your past life. I know your entire past, and if you don't make the deal I'll make sure they're deleted off the face of the earth. You'll live the rest of your life not knowing who you once were._

I bit my lip. I knew that Azazel had me in a bind. But that doesn't mean I couldn't twist his arm either.

 **M:** State your terms. If they're too outrageous I reserve the right to walk away.

 _ **A:** Ah...you see that's where you'd be wrong. Should you choose to accept, both of us will live. If you refuse, we both die. You have everything to live for, while I have nothing. You have everything to lose, while the outcome doesn't affect me much at all. You have no choice in the matter. Your decision is already definite._

Calling him a snake was pretty appropriate. Like a boa constrictor, he had me under his killing bind.

The area around us began to tremble. I realized that without a personality, my body had ceased breathing. Although it appeared time slowed in this dimension, my brain would only go for three minutes until it suffered irreversible damage. Any deal had to be struck as soon as possible.

 **M:** You're a little bitch you know that right? Hurry up and tell me that I'm going to sign away my first born child before we run out of time.

 _ **A:** You'll find the terms to be fairly generous. In exchange for my life, you'll receive your precious memories, and your freedom..._

I pondered the proposal. Although I would return to the real world, it would come with the understanding that Azazel would always be lurking in the shadows, waiting for an opportunity to strike. I really had to think about this...

The rumbling erupted into a full-blown earthquake. Azazel got noticeably worried.

 _ **A:** Quite the negotiator you damn tactician? If I must sweeten the deal I shall. I'll add on my gift of magic, but that's where the deal stands. Hurry up and decide tactician! We only have a few moments until our demise!_

Now, why would he add that? Was it simply out of desperation...or is there something more sinister at hand? I've already learned that Azazel is not to be trust-

 _ **A:** BY THE STARS TACTICIAN. IF YOU DON'T DECIDE WE'RE GOING TO DIE._

Time is life's most precious commodity, and I understood I had none left. I had to decide. Against my better judgment, I took the only viable option.

 **M:** I accept.

I heard Azazel mutter something intangible. A black vortex engulfed my body, lifting me up towards the sky...

I awoke with a familiar white-haired girl standing over my body. What wasn't familiar was the three tanned men standing beside her.

They were shorter than the average Lycian. No more than 5 foot 6 inches. They had long, thick black hair that was followed effortlessly with the find. They had unique dress, and it seemed to be a mixture of Lycian and native tradition. They wore a green tunic with leather armor, while also sporting a strange helmet that resembled a jaguar. Instead of tradition swords, they wielded a hammer that was a thick stick surrounded with sharp black rocks. They carried shields that were decorated with bird-inspired art.

One of the men introduced the group.

"Estábamos cazando cuando oímos un ruido extraño. ¿Estás bien?

The language surprised me, but the next bit completely floored me...

 _We were hunting when we heard some weird noise. Are you alright?_

I could understand it.

* * *

 **An hour later...**

I discovered that rainforest wasn't the only thing that populated Missur's geography. There were some additional mountains that protruded out of the main range, and by these mountains, there is some more docile hills and plateaus. It was here where our rescuers called home.

This hidden civilization was entirely self-sustaining. Farmers grew maize, squash, beans, and other hearty produce on the fertile land. Fishers caught aquatic life on a large lake, a lake the people call Vida lake.

At the center of this civilization was a city named Lexcoco. There were no paved roads, but soft dirt cushioned every step. No litter polluted the floor like in Badon, rather all of it was placed in conveniently placed wastebaskets scattered across the city. A variety of homes that resembled bricks served at the population's residences.

Using my newfound memories, I surmised that this civilization was some sort of Missurian Native/Lycian hybrid. It was very weird, and difficult to put my head around.

"Hey Mark, thinking about something?"

I turned towards my friend, the manakete Lumina. The bottom of her lip was wet from the bean soup she was feasting on. Considering how hungry we were, I don't blame her for forgoing on her manners.

We were at a slave rescue center. Lexcuco is located near a major trafficking route, so they found it necessary to build this structure to help any escaped slaves. There were a few other former slaves here, but they kept to themselves.

I replied, "Yeah, I was just thinking about the situation we're in right now. It's nice how they said they'll let us go after we rest up, but I'm still worried about the rest of the trip back."

I still couldn't believe our luck. Had those soldiers not found us, we surely would've died of thirst in the jungle. They were much more prepared against the elements than we were, and we made it to Lexcuco by the end of the day.

Lumina said, "It's unfortunate that we'll have to go our own. They said that their soldiers don't travel far from the capital. They're hesitant to contact anybody from the coast."

I replied, "I wonder why."

 _ **A:** I do too._

 **M:** What the heck?

My face went a pearly white. I felt like I had just heard that voice. The voice of evil.

 _ **A:** Hello again. It's nice to see the deal benefitted both parties._

 **M:** I don't remember allowing you into my thoughts.

 _ **A:** You agreed to receive my gift of magic. But in order for you to use it, I have to be present in your thoughts. It's what you agreed to._

 **M:** Why you scheming little...

"Mark?"

The manakete had a concerned look to her face. I realized that I had stayed still for little over a minute.

She said, "You drifted off into space again. You're really beginning to freak me out."

I went into a cold sweat. The only person that could hear Azazel was me. If I told anyone about voices in my head, I would surely be branded insane and thrown into an asylum. An asylum in medieval times would do more harm than good, and would eventually lead to the release of Azazel into the world. That was something to be avoided at all costs.

I placed my right hand awkwardly on the back of my head. I gave a smile that reflected the same tone.

I said, "Must've gotten a concussion earlier or something. I've been feeling pretty aloof lately."

I hoped that this answer was enough to dismiss any suspicions Lumina had about me. I held my breath as I read her face for any sign of distrust.

Luckily for me though, it seemed she had accepted my answer.

She said, "Oh yeah I've had a few of those before. Let's make sure we buy a sense tonic when we get to Carazan."

 **M:** Great...she bought that.

 _ **A:** I take great pleasure in seeing you embarrass yourself._

 **M:** You better savor this moment because it won't happen again.

I said, "Speaking of Carazan, I think we should start preparing to leave for that city. Every day that we stay here is another that we waste."

Lumina sighed and looked out the window. A grand pyramid stood overlooking the city. It was composed of blackened rock sourced from the nearby mountains. Steps traveled all the way to the top, and the structure easily topped 100 feet. With everything considered, it was an intimidating symbol of Lexcuco's power.

She replied, "Yes, but I fear that if we don't change anything about our tactics then we'll face the same result. Remember that further down this trail we won't be rescued."

 _A: She has a point. You'll need more people or better gear if you want to stand a chance in the jungle._

 **M:** I thought you were doing everything in your power to spite me?

 _ **A:** If you die then I die as well. I'm simply looking out for my own well-being..._

Before I could respond, I heard the grind of two seats against the wooden floor. Powerful, methodical steps got louder as two figures approached us.

"We may be able to help you there."

Two young men stood before us. One was in his mid-twenties, and despite his age, he sported short gray hair. There was a sense of prestige and honor to him, along with a mysterious aura. I recognized his current outfit to be leather armor often carried under heavier plate armor. His latter was likely stolen. This man must've been a former knight.

His companion was a man around my age. He had red hair and a blue outfit that resembled a captain's vest. He had a long steel sword attached to his back, arranged in a way that it could be drawn at a moment's notice. Guessing from his less formal attire, I predicted he was some sort of mercenary.

The gray-haired man gave a smile that could calm even the most anxious of people.

"Oh, where are my manners?"

The gray-haired extended his hand, which I promptly shook.

He said, "My name is Simon and this my companion Raven. Pleased to make your acquaintance."

I replied, "Likewise."

Hoping to establish some trust, I looked Simon in the eye. They were stern but carried enough compassion to let me trust him.

I then shifted my gaze towards his red-haired companion. Unfortunately, I quickly realized that I had made a mistake. His eyes drowned my soul in hatred; his irises shaking with contempt. It weakened me to my very core, and I found myself fearing this man. I looked away and decided to refrain from such actions again.

He added, "We were eating lunch when we overheard your conversation. You see, we too need to make our way to Carazan."

Lumina asked, "Were...were you captured by the slavers as well?"

Simon nodded his head, "Yes...I was a knight with the Ilian guild. We were fighting for a client in Caledonia when I was captured by the enemy. I was sold and sent through the Oltorf pass, but I managed to slip away with this young man. I'm afraid I can't tell you much of his past, but he's a good man. I can assure you that."

I was still avoiding eye contact with Raven. I found Simon's claim hard to believe.

 _ **A:** How about we use magic and kill everyone in the room? I get the pleasure of destruction and you get a way out. Win-win._

 **M:** No.

I felt Lumina tug the back of my shirt. Facing her, I could tell that she held the same reservations about Raven. Despite that, I understood that we had few other options in getting through Oltorf.

But Raven, despite Simon's confidence in him, I couldn't help but suspect that this man was going to slit my throat. I wasn't sure if I felt safe traveling with a dangerous man on an already hazardous trail.

I needed some more time to think about this.

I said, "We appreciate your offer, but we'd like to spend some time to mull this over."

Simon replied, "Of course. Spend as much time as you need. When you come to your decision you know where to find us."

We finished the engagement with a firm and mutually trustworthy handshake. Off the corner of my eye, I spotted Lumina slowly nodding her head.

 _ **A:** I never took you as somebody that procrastinates tactician._

 **M:** It's not procrastination, I'm simply spending more time to consider the situation. Had you done that you might've been able to usurp me demon.

With it all said and done, the duo excused themselves to an unseen part of the building. Lumina and I spent the next few hours wondering if we should entrust our lives in hands of someone so questionable.

* * *

 **Later...**

Lumina was walking peacefully by a river that ran through the city. Fishermen were working by a bridge, and the sidewalk she was using had various aged cracks. Pubs, restaurants, and other small businesses populated the entire coastline. Young couples, families, and other civilians were admiring the cool, clean river that sucked everything it touched downstream.

She had a new spring to her step. The Luxcucan state gave her some money for some new gear. Her bandaged feet wore new boots, and they no longer had to endure punishment against the prickly jungle floor. Her clothes were suitable repaired and patched. Her body felt refreshed, a product of the first shower she's had in ages. Her white hair had recovered some of the shine she had prior to her enslavement; a fact that she appreciated greatly.

Her hair was something she took great pride in. To her people, it was a status symbol. Your place in society often correlated with the care you were able to afford to your hair. In addition, certain colors were desired more than others. Light blue was desired for its association with ice, red for fire, and lastly white for wind. Having these colors often suggested some sort of connection to royalty.

Lumina felt her veins pop from her arm. She clutched her hand as she remembered the sister she lost in Lycia.

Her family was not royalty, far from it. They were simple commoners, and her white hair was not a trait shared by either of her parents. But she wasn't the only one in her family that had white hair, this trait was shared by her sister as well. This simple fact caused friction with some rather powerful people in her tribe. With tension high, her family had no choice but to cross the eastern sea with some fellow countrymen. Only then would her family be completely safe.

That was the plan anyway, but like many things in her life, things don't go as planned.

Lumina stopped and looked at the sky. A white, fluffy cloud covered the sun.

She wondered what her sister was doing right now. Was she looking up towards the sky? The same sky that she was admiring right this moment? Nothing was for certain, but all she hoped was that she was safe. She wouldn't know what she would do with herself if she were to perish at the hand of a heartless slaveowner.

She thought about her face every day. Her voice, her happy smile. She longed for the time she would be reunited with her only family. It was the only thing keeping her going in times like these.

The hard times don't seem to be ending anytime soon, but at least she could see the light at the end of the tunnel.

Her feet landed on a stray puddle, spreading water all over the dirt road. She had been so occupied in her thoughts that she didn't realize where she was going. She raised her head and noticed she had wandered into a dark alley of one of the surrounding businesses.

The roar of the river had subsided now. Lumina realized she must've wandered away further than she'd liked to. The blinding sun that hung over the city dimmed as looming buildings blocked its light.

Cracks lined the alleyway's walls. Chipped bright green paint littered the floor. A dumpster nearby reeked with waste. Moss chewed away at the moist interior.

The area was very shady. Lumina had heard stories of what would happen to people in places like these. She was overwhelmed with a sense of dread.

 _I should get out of here._

She turned to leave the way she came. But to her shock, she realized someone was already blocking the exit.

Two men and one woman with dirty rags for clothes wielded long knives. They were barefoot and had thick calluses all along their feet. One of the men had a crazed expression on his face, seemingly only staying put on the orders of his companions.

The woman stepped forward, and her dark hair was messily strewn across her face. She spoke with a hoarse voice.

"Give us your *hic*"

Her face twitched uncontrollably as she stopped mid-sentence. She inched closer to Lumina, and she was overwhelmed with a scent that bested the nearby garbage. It was herbal in nature, and she immediately recognized it from her time in Bulgar.

Opium. There was no doubt about it.

Opium affected the very mind of its victims. The drug would entice its victims with an initial promise of pleasure, but would then entrap the user with the inescapable cycle of addiction. The drug became the only thing that occupied their minds, even pushing them to destroy relationships with family and other loved ones. The user would soon find themselves isolated and unable to support their habit, causing many to look towards banditry for a quick fix.

The woman lunged at her with the full force of her body. Lumina drew her dagger just in time for her to parry the blow. Swiftly, she kicked the addict in her stomach. She followed up by using the blunt end of her weapon to deliver a concussive blow to her opponent's head.

Finished, Lumina looked upon the bleeding body of her assailant. Feeling guilty, she turned away and faced the other two bandits. Although she understood what she had to do, it didn't make it anymore easier.

One of the men broke into maniacal laughter. This gesture took Lumina completely off guard.

A pain surrounded her ankle, and she fell back as it gave in. Hitting the hard ground, she realized why the man was laughing.

She had foolishly underestimated her initial opponent. When Lumina smashed her enemy's head, she had suspected that she had knocked her out. But she didn't take into account the effect of the drug that was likely coursing through her veins. Opium is notable for being an effective painkiller, a trait that would allow a woman like her to endure more brutal blows. A blow like the one she had just delivered.

She had let her guard down, and now the woman was on top of her with her dagger lifted over her bloody head.

The woman looked more animalistic than human.

The woman went into an unintelligible rant. Her dilated pupils locked with Lumina's, who was powerless to throw her off. The woman gave a devilish smile and then placed her finger above Lumina's chest.

"Hehe...I'm going to cut your heart out."

Those words caused Lumina to go into an adrenaline-filled frenzy. Squirming, she successfully threw the woman off of her. Attempting to stand, she lost her balance as one of the men tackled her to the ground. His friend arrived as well, and Lumina was pinned towards the ground.

She screamed for help, but one of the men covered her mouth. Tears fell from her eyelids, and her heart stopped as a flurry of memories filled her mind. There was only one other time when she felt this helpless. A time that still haunted her dreams.

The woman returned with her dagger. Her blood was dripping onto the floor, creating a tiny river of crimson. Despite the dangerous blood loss, she seemed oblivious to it. She took her knife and pressed it against Lumina's face.

With a swift stroke, she created a deep cross across her tanned skin. Lumina muffled screams echoed across the corridor.

The woman slowly raised her knife above her head again. Lumina felt faint as the metallic object shined in the little sunlight.

Lumina realized that this was the end. Her heart was going to be harvested and sold to some black market witch in the inner city. Although she had tried her best to fight, she had lost to a numerically and physically superior force.

She closed her eyes and crowded out the memory of her darkest moment with the memory of her dear sister. She silently repeated her name within the barriers of her mind and felt increasingly comfortable with each repetition.

Her name meant something special to her people. In their native language, it meant "immense heaven". If her sister had died as she feared, it wouldn't be long until they met in the afterlife.

 _Laniakea...perhaps we will finally meet again..._

That thought made Lumina a bit more comfortable of what was to come.

Lumina felt the grasp of the two men holding her down tighten. The woman had a greedy smile as she looked down upon Lumina's beating heart. Bringing her weapon down with all of her strength, the knife whizzed through the air effortlessly.

A second later, a spray of blood splattered against the green walls. The dry rock absorbed the red crimson like a sponge.

The alleyway was covered with a blanket of silence.


	23. Shifting Attitudes

**Chapter 20: Shifting Attitudes**

 **By SodiumChloride12, derived from Fire Emblem, owned by Nintendo.**

 **A/N: I've been writing on overtime so that I'd develop a cache. With this, I won't have to write as much as I usually do per day (on average, I write a 1000 words daily). If it comes to the point that this cache is used up, I'll have to drop to a bi-weekly schedule. Just letting y'all have a heads up.**

 **A/N: I'm now writing this with all my writing done. I feel really fatigued from it, so I've gotta take a week off. With that said, the next chapter will not release until 6/20. Sorry y'all, but I've got to focus on summer classes.**

 **P.S: Finally got the poll working. Look at my profile page to vote. All feedback is useful, and is well appreciated. Thank you in advance!**

 **N: Mark revisits some old passions. With his memories in hand, he begins to see everything in a new light. However, he is completely aware of his friend, Lumina, and her fate.**

* * *

I took in the familiar scent of parchment. I smiled as my mind wandered between the pages. In my old life, I was an avid reader in my youth, but the enticing appeal of technology had drawn me away from my first passion. Although in this world I wasn't afforded the luxuries of decent healthcare, balanced diets, and league of legends; I was able to rekindle my love for reading. A little pleasure from my old life that effortlessly transferred over to my new one.

The book that I was reading was a detailed account of Lexcucan history. The city traced its roots to an isolated, native tribe named the Raqui. Their numbers were nothing more than 5000 souls, but nevertheless, they formed the largest tribe in the central Missurian jungle. They existed there for countless centuries, living in relative peace save for the occasional incursion from neighboring tribes. Due to their isolation, they were completely spared from the brunt of the Scouring.

That all changed right around the year 500 (no one is completely sure about the exact date). Settlers from the coast began encroaching on their lands. Armed with foreign diseases and higher-quality weaponry, the Raqui were powerless to stop them. All around them neighboring tribes friend and foe alike fell to the invaders. In order to survive, the Raqui had to adapt to their new environment if they were to preserve their culture and way of life.

The chieftain at the time, Sleeping Paw, understood this. He sent a diplomat to observe and negotiate with the invaders at their city, the burgeoning Carazan. The diplomat was overwhelmed with the culture and technological advancements of the new civilization. They wore thick metal suits, rode on big four-legged animals, spoke in a weird language, and worshipped a monotheistic god. These people had white skin and colorful hair, with soldiers that seemed to command fire upon command.

Upon further investigation, the diplomat discovered that these invaders come from a foreign land. This land was a place beyond the Gulf of Valor, a land named Lycia. These settlers had come from there to escape the constant warfare inflicted by that nation's nobles. Judging by their treatment of the natives, it was clear they had every intention to be the new dominant force in the region. Barely able to fit everything in a single letter, the diplomat sent as much information back to his chieftain.

Upon receiving the letter, Sleeping Paw immediately realized his people had no chance of winning a war against these invaders. Unless a miracle befell upon his people, he would have no choice but accept any demands these invaders pressed onto them. The Raqui were on the verge of losing it's right to self-determination...or worse.

The miracle came in the form of a little brown-haired boy. Lost and hungry, the son of a local farmer wandered into the village of the Raqui. A local woman took pity upon him and decided to give him food. Although the woman meant well, it wasn't long until her neighbors realized that she was harboring the boy.

Initially, the tribe wanted to execute the boy on the spot. They asked, why should we help a boy whose people was so quick to harm us? Surely the boy doesn't deserve our mercy? What's one boy to hundreds of our dead?

Sleeping Paw silenced the angry crowd with the wave of his hand. He faced the boy, who was sobbing due to the situation around him. The boy reminded him of his son, a son he had lost due to a smallpox outbreak a few years ago. Although it took everything in his being to prevent him from lashing out against the boy, he understood that if he were to do so then his people would lose apart of them, a fabric of their humanity.

In a move a shocked everyone, (including himself) Sleeping Paw lifted the boy up into the air. The boy calmed down as soon as it felt the presence of a friendly father figure. Facing the crowd, Sleeping Paw announced that the Raqui will act not on its desire for revenge, but on its will of compassion. Not only will the boy be fed and cared for, but he will also be returned to his parents. To care for everyone that needs it; that is the Raqui way.

The Raqui meant well, and if a God truly existed in this world, the Raqui surely received its blessing. The boy was returned to his grief-stricken parents, who immediately thanked the Raqui for its actions. Shortly thereafter, an unforeseen series of events secured the Raqui's survival.

The boy's family arrived at the gates of the Raqui's village, along with a small caravan of settlers. Raqui's warriors stood at the ready, but Sleeping Paw made them stand down. The settlers wielded no weapons, so it was clear they meant no harm. The boy's father asked for an audience with the chieftain, and his request was granted.

Alone in his tent, the two men fell into conversation. Although the language barrier was great, the two made do with hand gestures. The father introduced himself as the leader of a splinter group of the settler faction. They were at odds with the leadership in Carazan due to the cities' blatant disregard for the personal freedoms of their citizens. Fed up, a splinter cell formed and left the city for the surrounding jungle.

Although the 500 strong group was away from the city, danger lurked at every corner. Beasts and poisonous plants increased the mortality rate. In addition, the city sent soldiers to harass rebels and natives alike.

The leader proposed the tribes join forces against the common enemy. The Raqui would provide expertise in survival while the Rebels would provide technology. It would be a beneficial arrangement.

The leader extended his hand for a handshake. The universal sign for a deal done.

Sleeping Paw felt uncomfortable about the arrangement. The deal was good on paper, but there was nothing preventing them from turning on his people after their conflict with Carazan had subsided. He needed some sort of guarantee. He needed something more than an alliance.

Something much more.

The chieftain proposed something that was only offered once; the birth of the Raqui. The Raqui itself is the merger of two tribes, the Yaramuri, and the Taya peoples. The chieftains of the two tribes offered up a son and daughter, and the pair created

a dynasty that ruled over both. It was a mixture of people and culture and was considered the birth of a new tribe. This was the deal offered by Sleeping Paw.

He offered up his daughter, his last remaining child, in exchange for a merger. The chieftain felt a sting of irony in the arrangement; he himself was betrothed to his wife when was only six years of age. He had vowed he would never let this fate befall upon his children, yet here was doing just that.

The leader eyed the chieftain's hand. This deal would be the first of its kind, no cultures that differed this much had ever attempted this. If this experiment failed, it could spell an end to both parties.

The leader laughed and shook Sleeping Paw's hand enthusiastically. He was always one to take risks, otherwise, he never would've challenged the power of the city. He would much rather take risks with new family.

Thus the nation of Luxcuco was founded on that day. The new nation mixed Lycian and Raqui cultures, giving a new authentic flavor to the region. A new city was built that carried the name of the infant nation. It had Lycian architecture, Raqui agriculture, along with new styles of dance developing in its streets. A new language which was a mixture of Elibean and Raqui filled its residences and courtrooms. An emperor that personified this new arrangement ruled over the city with a benevolent hand. His elected advisors did most of his duties in his stead.

It was truly a success story. The Raqui got to keep their culture while the rebels got to keep their freedom. The new Luxcucon identity was something these people wore like a proud badge.

I closed the book and placed it at the end of the bench I was reading at. I had ventured out from the library into the surrounding countryside. I was tired of being cooped up indoors so I decided to read near the corn fields. Farmers were busily planting new crop as donkeys helped to plow the fields.

The sight made me think about my life when all of this was over. Maybe I'd run away with Lyn and start a farm somewhere. We'd live our lives peacefully and away from wars, along with the complicated politics in castles. We'd be happy...I think.

 _ **A:** It pleasures me to say that Lyn would likely stay with her grandpa. I hope this fact causes you to go into a deep debilitating depression._

 **M:** I know that. It's just nice to think of a life away from all these complexities.

I looked at the complicated irrigation that fed water into the fields. It delivered water straight from the river, carrying with it plenty of nutrients from the mountains. This created a fertile cesspool that will make a famine incredibly unlikely. The Raqui surely did make good farmers.

"I've never anybody that seemed so intrigued by ditches in the dirt."

I turned and saw a familiar face. An armored man with gray hair stood near my bench. I recognized him as the knight Simon.

I replied, "They're more than just ditches. They represent an engineering accomplishment, or rather a feat of humanity. This project reminds me that we are capable of more than just killing each other. We can truly do great things if our hearts are in the right place."

Simon reminisced about the life he'd led so far. His chilly homeland came to mind.

Simon replied, "I see...unfortunately all I've known is war. I've never experienced anything but man's will to fight amongst ourselves."

 _ **A:** I can really relate to this guy._

 **M:** Not like that you idiot.

I said, "I'm sorry...although in a way I can understand. People only see my value in my ability to outsmart my opponents. Although I appreciate my gift of intelligence, I just wish I didn't have to use it as a weapon. I would much rather prefer an existence where I helped people."

Simon sighed, "I wish I could do that as well Mark. Unfortunately, my country is cursed with infertile soil, so I have to help feed my people by risking my life. I take pride in serving my country, but I dream for the day Illia would no longer have to rely on the spilled blood of her soldiers for sustenance."

I replied, "It appears we're both visionaries. It's a trait I value in a man."

Simon gave a confident thumbs up. His hands were covered with recently acquired leather gloves.

The midday sun hung high in the sky. I heard the melodic whistling from the nearby farmers fill the airways. A docile pigeon huddled near the bench as if it were begging for bread to eat.

Simon pointed towards my face, "By the way Mark, mind if I ask about the mask?"

I barely remembered even having it on. I was so used to wearing one it felt natural.

Upon arriving at the city, I immediately made for a mask shop at the central market. The item I chose was a simple black mask made of enchanted obsidian sourced from a nearby volcano. Although black wasn't really my style, the concealment of my identity held paramount. Better safe than sorry, even if Luxcuco was in the middle of nowhere.

I replied, "I have some nasty scars covering my face. If I didn't wear this I'm afraid I'd attract some unwanted attention."

Technically I wasn't lying. If I didn't wear this mask I'd likely have been thrown out of town by now. Only a select few people have ever seen my face, one of which being Lumina. I was able to tell her my whole story back on the slaver's ship, and the manakete was surprisingly sympathetic. In addition to that, seemingly nobody at the mine identified me. With my cover intact, I had the freedom to continue adventuring under my masked persona.

Simon accepted my explanation, and he didn't press the issue any further.

Afterword, the knight invited me for a stroll along the country road. We reminisced about our old lives and thought about the loved ones we left behind. It turns out, Simon and I could easily relate to each other on the former.

Simon asked, "Do you have a special lady Mark? Surely an intelligent man such as yourself should."

I nodded my head and looked out towards the sky. I imagined her face, whose bright green eyes, clear face, a long green hair was still clear in my mind. Her personality was equally as appealing, and it represented the crowning jewel in her. With my mind and her blade, we made for a fearsome duo.

I replied, "I do, she's a nice girl from Sacae. We first met when she saved my life after I suffered a bad injury. We decided to go an adventure, and in the end I found myself stricken with her. Luckily, she felt the same way. I am truly blessed to have met her. I don't know where and how I'd be if I didn't meet her."

Simon replied, "Interesting. It appears you have found yourself a proper woman. Tell me, are you two engaged?"

That last comment took me completely off guard. I nearly tripped up against my own feet but caught myself before I hit the ground.

I said, "E-Engaged?! We're much too young! Besides, we'd only been together for a few months! It's much too early to s-speak of marriage right now! Why would you ask about that?"

Simon sighed, "It's just that...in my country, our young men and women tend to not live very long. It's not surprising for two young adults to elope just a few days after meeting each other. Behavior like that is even encouraged, otherwise our population wouldn't be sustainable. Although I would like to spend more time to explore the complexities of a proper relationship, I'm afraid that reality is simply not possible."

Simon seemed to speak of death very casually. To him, death was simply a routine part of his life. I didn't want to imagine how many loved ones he lost due to combat over the years. Simon's outlook on love was based on the short-term, fleeting nature of the emotion. As for me, it relied on the using time to properly scope out a partner to avoid mistakes down the road. My western, American view of love was incompatible with Simon's Illian view. One was used due to the scarcity of time, while the other flourished in its abundance.

 _As they say, time is life's most precious commodity._

I said, "I'm sorry to hear that. By the way, do you have a woman waiting for you back home?"

Simon smiled as his face crinkled with thought.

"Yes, she has long hair that's the same shade as your outfit. She's a wonderful woman and an equally wonderful fighter. After I leave this place I intend to marry her, lest the jaws of death reach her first."

With that conversation done, we continued through the lonely dirt road. We stopped in front of a farmhouse, whose owner was effortlessly working on his crop with his family.

Simon said, "Hey Mark, didn't you mention earlier that you'd like to settle down somewhere on a farm?"

I replied, "Yeah? What of it?"

Simon removed the glove covering his hands and showed his palms towards me. There were thick callouses around them, presumably due to heavy usage of his lance.

He said, "When I was younger, I toiled at one of the few available farms in southern Illia. It was a difficult existence, but a peaceful one nevertheless. Although I traded my plow for a lance, I still remember how to properly care for crops."

Puzzled, I asked, "Are you suggesting we help these people tend to their crops?"

Simon laughed and wrapped his arm around my shoulder. He pointed towards the empty fields.

"Of course I mean that Mark. Perhaps they'll pay us as well...not that it matters. I just feel that we should give something back to the people that have afforded us so much. Helping them plant some corn should do the trick."

I said, "Well the last time I held a tool, it caused me to hate salt. But...giving back to these people doesn't sound like a bad idea. I could use a workout."

Simon invitingly raised his hand towards the farmhouse. A cool breeze from the mountains seemed to push me towards it.

He said, "Shall we?"

"Let's"

* * *

 **Alleyway...downtown Luxcuco...**

The same breeze that blew through the countryside found its way to the bloodied walls of a random alleyway. The wind caressed the walls like a mother would its child; causing the crimson to travel in a line parallel to the floor. The bare ground was stained with blood as well, and it accumulated into a steady stream of crimson. A blanket of silence reigned true in the direct vicinity. Time seemed to stand still as a white-haired manakete opened her eyes.

The force holding her down to the floor was gone. Free to move she pressed her hand against the floor, and a clammy hand fell from her wrist. Blood fell from her face down onto her lip, delivering a sweet shot of flavor into her taste buds. Her heart was beating rapidly, and she was giving off short anxious filled breaths. Her brain was inflicted with a massive amount of brain fog, filling her with an aura of confusion. Letting her eyes get used to the surrounding light, she came to terms with the environment around her.

Lumina felt like she had just come back from the dead. In addition to that, her assailants were all dead on the floor, with the back of their necks cut open with a single precise strike. Lumina wasn't anywhere skilled enough to deliver such a blow with her dagger, and even if she was the girl was in no position to do so.

Lumina heard some steady breathing nearby. Turning her head, she realized she wasn't alone.

A tall black figure stood behind the cover of darkness. Its red eyes penetrated through it like a dart, glaring at Lumina's vulnerable position. A sword was poking out in sunlight, and its tip dripped with blood. The figure stood in silence, ignoring the life it had presumably just saved.

Lumina was petrified. She had only seen those eyes once before. The hatred, the contempt...it was very clear who this person was. It was the mercenary she had seen earlier, the red-haired enigma named Raven.

"Oh...ah...um…"

Lumina was at a loss for words. The fear that seeded itself in her stomach had spread into her vocal cords. Her hands began to tremble in fear as she wondered what the man was planning to with her.

But that wasn't something she was going to wait to find out.

With a new rush of adrenaline coursing through her veins, she made a dash for the exit. Taking her first steps, her feet made contact with the dry ground. With no obstacles in her path, it appeared that Lumina was going to be able to leave with her life.

THUD!

In an instant, Lumina was flat on her stomach. Her feet had slipped on a moist piece of ground; which had been so due to the copious amount of blood leaving her assailant's bodies. Lumina turned her body and tried to get up, but it was in vain. A painful sting surrounded her ankle, and it was at that moment that she realized she had sprained it. Any possibility of fleeing had just evaporated.

Raven left his pocket of darkness and approached Lumina. His red hair had come into view now, and his sword continued to drip with crimson. He came within a foot of Lumina, and he paused as he let his eyes stare into the very fabric of Lumina's soul.

What happened next took the young manakete by surprise.

Raven took a small pouch of pink substance from his pocket. Breaking its seal, he poured its contents into Lumina's ankle.

The stuff worked wonders on it. Muscle fibers healed, and her ankle straightened out. Lumina recognizes this as the work of a vulnerary.

She stood still as her savior reached his hand towards her. Silently, he invited her to take it.

She said, "W-Why are you helping me?"

Raven looked out towards the trio of dead on the floor. In their crusade to obtain the one thing they desired, they had chosen to resort to murder. It was an unfortunate reality, but only one thing could be done if the girl was to be saved. Every action had its consequence after all. Now they laid still on the floor, with their opium-laced blood seeping into the ground.

Raven said, "You looked like you needed saving."

That much was true. The red-haired mercenary was going about his day buying equipment nearby when he heard a muffled scream in the alleyway. His initial urge was to stay away, but his gut churned as he realized he recognized that voice. Against his better judgment, he followed it. He soon came into view of a terrible scene, where three crazed bandits were on the cusp of committing murder. At first sight of the knife; which one of the bandits held high above their head, Raven immediately acted on his instincts. Holding the life of the girl paramount, he slew her assailants with a single precise strike, disregarding the interests the lives of the men entirely. In any other situation, he would have considered holding back, but he only had a second of thought. However, now that the deed was done, he regretted nothing.

What were three meaningless lives to one meaningful one?

Lumina eyed her savior's hand. Although initially reluctant, she accepted. Raven lifted her up to her feet, allowing the young manakete to stand as his equal. He secured his still bloody sword in his sheath, much to the relief of Lumina.

Lumina once again observed Raven's eyes. Although on the surface they hadn't changed, additional context allowed her to see the mercenary's true nature. Somewhere between all that hate and darkness stood a man with a troubled past, someone who had been the recipient of a lot of pain. Yet, despite that, he still felt compelled to help someone he had just recently met. Raven was a complex figure, but sometimes it was important to focus on the good of a person.

This revelation let Lumina relax. Raven wasn't going to hurt her, that thought never crossed his mind.

Lumina said, "T-Thank you...you saved my life."

He replied, "I don't understand why you held back against those brutes. Are you stupid?"

Raven's strict tone cut through Lumina's renewed confidence like butter. She was beginning to warm up to the mercenary, only to come crashing down to Earth. Lumina couldn't even respectfully answer back as she was fumbling her words.

"W-What?!"

Taking a harder look at Raven's face, Lumina realized that he was not a happy man. His face was fashioned in such a way that clearly expressed his distaste for her. Speech angrier than anything she'd ever heard before left the mercenaries mouth. Although she had wished to hear his voice, Lumina quickly realized that value of having things in moderation. Especially in moments right now.

Raven went off into a fiery rant. Smoke appeared to leave his ears and vultures that had arrived to feast on the dead left in earnest. It was surely one for the ages, and Lumina melted under the intense heat.

 **"By Elimine! How the [censored] are you so [censored] to get yourself in this [censored]?! Do you have a brain cell? Heck, I bet even the [censored] people at the insane asylum would have had the intuition to avoid this [censored]! Had I not heard your high as [censored] voice down the [censored] street, your [censored] would be mincemeat right now! I swear...!"**

Raven continued on with a multitude of profanities. Although she was thankful for still having her life, she realized it came at a great price. The price of her self-esteem...

* * *

 **At an undisclosed location...**

Laniakea felt a disturbance. It was light and easy to ignore but made her feel uneasy nonetheless.

No...not even uneasy. It was fear...which she already had in abundance. She chose to ignore it, as an additional burden to her psyche would be detrimental right now. It was better if she gave it thought later.

Yeah, that's what she would do. Think about it later...

* * *

Lumina had always considered herself strong willed. She had to be, otherwise, she would have succumbed to despair long ago. But this...

This was just too much.

The fear and humiliation within her blossomed into fierce anger. How dare he treat her with such disrespect? Surely a true gentleman would have saved her life and at the very least left her alone afterward. She doesn't deserve this. How could a man like this even exist?! Granted, he was a man...a lot of them seemed to treat women as their lessers. If only she could do something to get back at this barbaric swine.

Luckily, Lumina knew just the thing. She dealt with fiery brats like this back at home with her sister. One thing always shut her up.

Lumina widened her palm. Raven was so preoccupied with his rant that he didn't notice what she was about to do.

SLAP!

The left side of Raven's face went red like a cherry. The mercenary's dumbfounded face was priceless and was worth any post-slap repercussions.

The slap caused Raven to abruptly end his rant. Although he was in obvious pain, any seething anger appeared to dissipate immediately.

After a brief, awkward moment of silence, the red mercenary had recovered his senses. His eyes simmered to only a slightly-annoyed stare, and the veins popping out of his arms returned to normal. He spoke with a calmer voice than before.

He said, "I'm...uh...sorry. I got a little carried away."

Typical man. Never accepting the full brunt of their faults. Half-hearted apologies and all.

Lumina replied, "If you hadn't saved my life I probably would have given you something worse. Count your blessings."

Raven replied, "Mhmmm...I'm going to let that pass. For now..."

Raven looked towards the light that illuminated from the entrance.

"Let's get out of here. I'm sure the constable will be making his rounds here soon. I am not ready to go back to jail."

Lumina's mouth fell open.

"J-Jail?!"

Raven smirked as he realized that he let such an important detail like that slip. He knew that was going to make for an interesting conversation down the road. But it wasn't something he felt like explaining now.

"Shut up and move it. You're acting like a flustered teenaged girl. Hurry up and choose your man. I hate it when people wait until the last possible moment."

Lumina's felt another sting of anger. Although she didn't feel compelled to strike at him again, she still felt entitled to a response.

"I like girls you idiot!"

He was unfazed by this revelation. Honestly, he didn't care if the white-haired girl was straight or not. It didn't make her any less of a punk.

"Oh, I'm so _sorry_. Replace guy with a girl. Regardless of their gender, you're still an indecisive twat."

Raven began walking away. An exhausted Lumina watched with tired eyes as he left her with all of her things.

"Aren't you going to help me with my stuff? My face is still bleeding and my ankle's sore. Don't leave a lady struggling here!"

Raven rolled his eyes.

"Unlike you, I yearn for true equality."

Raven's figure began disappearing under the light. Lumina hobbled (bow in tow) on one leg as she struggled to keep up.

She exclaimed, "Wait for me! Come back!"

Lumina eventually did catch up with the heartless mercenary. Although she almost died back in that alleyway, she did gain something out of the whole ordeal. She was afforded the opportunity to read out Raven's personality. Raven wasn't particularly nice, but that didn't mean he was evil. Far from it. When given the opportunity to save a life, even one of a stranger, he chose to risk himself and save another.

Raven is a complex character with many faults, some of which make him utterly undesirable. He has a temper, a foul mouth, and has a superiority complex. He displays an utter lack of hygiene, and his clothes smell like they hadn't been washed in weeks. When left alone, his introversion meant that he was hardly ever noticed. When spoken to, his lack of social skills caused him to flare up in the presence of others. Yet, despite that...

It didn't make him any less of a hero.

* * *

 **Later...**

My muscles screamed in pain as I took a seat. My back hurt, my gut hurt, but my arms and legs hurt the most. I hadn't worked this hard since I had freed myself from the clutches of those slavers, although there was a silver lining in my labor. Before, my energies went towards the benefit of some faceless businessmen. Now, they contributed to the feeding of this nation, along with making me a bit richer. The farmer was so satisfied with our work that he insisted that we accept some form of compensation, and by that point, we had no strength left to say no. With our pay (which consisted of 500 gold between the two of us) we decided to treat ourselves on a trip to a local Luxcucon restaurant.

The restaurant had a colorful interior. A wooden model sun with a smiling face hung on the wall. A mural depicting the city amidst a thick jungle decorated the walls. Ironically, it reminded me of the concept of a "shining city on a hill" back in my old life. I smiled as I realized that some things in humanity never change, including our glorified idealisms.

A waitress arrived speaking my world's equivalent of Spanish. I ordered our food flawlessly, save for the obvious accent. It appeared that even in my second language people were still curious about the way I spoke. Spanish in my world varied incredibly depending on the region. For instance, a citizen speaking in Mexico could find themselves struggling when conversing with a Venezuelan. Fortunately, the accent here was similar to one spoken in Central America, and I was able to talk to the waitress without much difficulty.

Regardless of their accent, I was dying to eat something I hadn't indulged on for a while. My favorite food in my old life.

The waitress returned with a plate full of food. My stomach grumbled as my mouth salivated uncontrollably.

"Eight beef tacos for the table. Enjoy!"

The waitress placed the plat flat on the table. Simon eyed the foreign food suspiciously.

Cut sizzling beef, diced onions, a hint of lime juice, a weird red sauce, all on an unfamiliar circular vessel. It was unlike anything he'd ever had back at home.

He considered asking his new friend about the dish, but he had already gone into an all-consuming frenzy. Grease aimlessly fell to the table, along with the tactician's lap. Tears fell from his eyes, and Simon wondered why.

He asked, "Mark...is the food surely worth some tears."

I placed a half-finished taco onto the plate. I had already gone through half of my share, along with half of another.

I replied, "Simon, I hadn't had something like this in so long. I can't tell you how much I've waited...all the adversity I had to overcome to reach this moment. It's indescribable...but if I must try...then it's something along the lines of homesickness."

Simon replied, "I see...I too yearn for the moment I return home. Granted, the moment would be short-lived. They'll likely send me back to my guild once they know I'm still alive and healthy."

I pointed towards his unaltered tacos that still laid on the place.

"In that case, it's best to enjoy the little time you have to ourselves. Indulge in a little culture. You might never get an opportunity like this again."

Simon shrugged and picked up a greasy taco. Red sauce began filling the bottom of his plate. Deciding that he'd much rather have it in his mouth than his lap, he took a big bite.

Simon was immediately overcome with an intense heat surrounding his tongue. It was unlike anything he'd had before, and he found himself wanting water to douse the flames.

He asked, "Are you sure the tears aren't from the spice?!"

I gave a mischievous grin. I was aware that Ilians had little to zero spice in their foods can, so I wanted to pull a bit of a prank on my friend.

I replied, "Maybe a little...I wouldn't try using water. Milk will do just fine."

I scanned the room for the waiter as Simon's face began to resemble a tomato. She was nowhere to be seen, but I was able to spot the entrance just in time for a familiar white-haired girl to appear. I found it unusual that Raven was in tow, but I'm sure Lumina had her reasons. The manakete was happy to converse with me, although Raven held his tongue.

Lumina said, "Hey Mark. How rude of you to not invite me over for lunch."

I shrugged my shoulders, "Sorry...I didn't see you in the neigh- woah! What happened to your face?!

A large cut was visible across the left side of her face. The wound was still fresh, and it hardly had the opportunity to scab.

She said, "I had...a bit of a scuffle earlier. This fine gentleman helped me out. I owe him my life."

I looked over the red-haired mercenary. He nodded in acknowledgment, and not one word left his mouth. This detail unsettled me slightly but was nothing significant to fret about.

Nevertheless, I should still thank him for his actions. I extended my hand towards him a handshake.

I said, "Raven, was it? I have to thank you for helping my friend here. She means a lot to me, and I wouldn't know how I'd live with myself if she met her end. I'm truly grateful."

Raven eyed my hand suspiciously. He took so long that I wondered if he was actually going to shake it. To my relief, he extended his hand and accepted it. Or so I thought.

 _By Elimine..._

 _This man's handshake is weak!_

I held back the temptation to gawk at the ramifications of his gesture. Is this man weak? No that's impossible. If he was he wouldn't have been able to save Lumina from whatever situation she landed herself in. That would only mean one thing...

Raven didn't trust me enough to display his full strength. That was the only explanation.

Raven raised his eyebrow. I realized that I had paused in thought for way too long.

 _ **A:** And to think I thought he was the weird one **.**_

 **M:** But the handshake...

This was no time to ponder about formalities.

I snapped out of it and changed the subject.

I asked, "So...while we're all here we should talk about our next course of action..."

Lumina and I agreed to take up the offer they presented earlier. Although I was still wary about Raven, Lumina had convinced me well enough to trust the man. After addressing some logistics like food and equipment, it was time to dismiss.

Simon asked, "What time will we meet at the city gates for departure?"

I replied, "At dawn. Our families and loved ones have waited enough. Starting tomorrow, we will no longer be pushed around by wild animals or brutal slavers..."

"We'll bring the fight to them. Not only will we survive in the jungle; we fully intend to thrive. We'll complete the rest of Oltorf pass and take the first ship out of this damn country!"

We spent that night dreaming of the moment we would finally return home. This accursed jungle had been the only thing preventing us from doing what we wanted. Tonight was going to be our last night chained to by insurmountable adversity.

Tomorrow morning, we'll tread through the jungle not as it's lesser, but as its equal. The strong naturally wants to oppress the weak, but what happens when the weak gather strength?

The chains binding them breaks, and the former oppressors writhe in fear. As history has taught us, then, and only then, will we regain control of our own destiny.

A long road lays ahead of us. Whether or not we survive is entirely dependent on my mind, and my friend's strength. Together, we form the two pillars that hold up the temple of our survival. Should either fail, the temple falls along with our inevitable deaths. Our lives lay on our own hands, more so for me.

I won't let them down.

* * *

 **?...**

A young swordsman lurked in the trees, his golden eyes on the lookout for one very important person.

He had traveled across the continent to find this man, a man who had built himself quite the reputation. His body yearned to fell him with his sword, an heirloom passed down for generations.

He considered leaving to pursue other interests, but he had simply been wandering in this jungle for far too long. His blade ached to be bathed in the blood of the strong, and it wasn't his duty to reject those desires.

No...it was his duty to fulfill.

Thus he continues to lurk in the jungle. Waiting for the moment that man finally appears before him. He didn't care if it took months.

Or even years...


	24. Death March in Hell

**Chapter 21: Death March in Hell**

 **By SodiumChloride12, derived from Fire Emblem,** **owned by Nintendo**

 **A/N: Nothing much to write so...how about them Cowboys? Jokes aside, its been about 119 days since decent football. I've been to the spring game here at my university but...it was not good.**

 **Looks like I'll just have to bury myself in fanfiction again. Maybe even some anime. Gotta get my mind off of school and work sometimes.**

 **P.S: I lied! Ended up writing a whole chapter while I was helping my uncle drive to the border. Hope you enjoy!**

 **N: Our héroes begin their trek through Oltorf pass. Confident in their abilities, their strong hearts must be prepared for what's to come. When the time comes, Mark may have to wipe the dust away from some old tricks.**

* * *

 **?...**

 _I felt like I was in a trance. Insurmountable amounts of brain fog littered my consciousness, and everything felt out of touch. Pain felt non-existent, although I still felt emotion. I found it difficult to keep my eyes open, and my vision looked like a blur._

 _The area around me was a black void, not unlike the environment Nergal and I had met under. Except, this time I didn't sense his presence nearby. I felt something else, something much more omnipotent. I yearned with every atom in my body to seek out this omnipotence, but every step I took just sent me deeper into the endless void. The complete knowledge was something only granted to divine gods, and I was only human._

 _The omnipotence clustered into a ball of light. It rose up into the air before exploding into a mighty fireball. It's particle scattered across the universe, almost dancing as it began to form dots in the sky. I recognized these to be all the stars in the observable universe._

 _One star approached me from the pack. It seemed so insignificant compared to the rest, but I could sense its raw, unparalleled power. The faraway burning ball of fire morphed into something much more human-like. Something...much more approachable._

 _So I took a step towards it. I should have been destroyed easily under its intense heat, but instead, I felt welcomed by it. The star was getting closer now, close enough for me to see its silhouette._

 _The star had taken the form of a woman. Not just any woman, she had unparalleled beauty to anyone I had seen before. Well...that last part wasn't exactly true. There was one that could beat her._

 _Regardless, she beckoned me over with the wag of her index finger. Her hair was fiery orange, and her skin a light red. She had an outfit that resembled a woman of the cloth, along with a long orange scepter._

 _She spoke._

 _"My child. Please forgive me. I did not wish to intrude on your slumber. But there is something I wish to tell you."_

 _Her words felt like milk and honey. I felt compelled to address her concern._

 _I replied, "No problem at all m'am. I feel blessed with your presence. What would you like me to know?"_

 _The lady had a stricken expression on her face. Solar flares left the ends of her cheeks as she delivered her message._

 _"A curse was befallen upon you by malicious forces. One of the four of you will not leave this country alive. Mind your time Samuel. Each day may be your last..."_

I woke up drenched in sweat. The dying embers of the evening fire were still burning on our campsite. The night sky was strikingly identical to the sky I was treated to in my dream. A warm breeze blew through our camp, with it brushing up against my goosebumps.

 _Who in the world was that?_

 ** _A: That? She's the fair maiden of Próxima Centauri. She's a celestial spirit that looks over us...and is also the source of our power. I find it odd that she appeared before you._**

 **M: Odd?**

 _ **A:** Yes, I believe I've never had the honor of meeting her. The great king Azazel had constant contact with her, but she had since lost contact with the clones. I think the constant deaths must've traumatized her. Regardless, she's decided to reach out to you...and that's not something to take lightly._

 **M:** You can be surprisingly useful sometimes. Too bad you're evil. Maybe in another life, we could have become friends.

 _ **A:** I wouldn't let your guard down. The first opportunity I get to bring you down, I'll act without mercy._

 **M:** If.

Still, that mysterious maiden's words made feel uneasy. One of us will not leave this country alive, although it was still a question of when. It could be tomorrow, next week, or even right now. Having to bury one of my friends was not something I was looking forward to, and if we were indeed cursed then I have to do everything in my power to lift that curse.

But that still brings up the question of who would want to bring harm to us. A curse is no easy feat, let alone one that delivers death. I hadn't spotted anyone followed us as we left the city, and the only enemies that we had to fight were wild animals thus far. Was someone lurking in the shadows? Or could it be Nergal wanting to inflict some parental discipline? Rarely do I find myself asking questions that I myself can't answer, but here I was doing just that.

The degree of uncertainty felt like a killer to my confidence. I broke into a cold sweat as I slowly turned over to see my friends.

To my relief, everyone was alright. Simon and Raven were fast asleep while Lumina was struggling to stay awake for the night watch.

The night watch was a truly mind-numbing task. One had to stay put in place while they observed the environment around them for several hours. This can get very boring really fast...so I wasn't surprised to see Lumina's eyes droop.

She swerved her head towards me; her ears perked up. I freed myself from the blanket cocoon I had wrapped myself in. I took in a big yawn, and the manakete reciprocated.

I spoke with enough volume for her to hear me but took great care not to wake the others.

"Sleepy huh? Let's switch out."

Lumina nodded in agreement and began wrapping herself up in her own cocoon. Anticipating my own boredom, I took out some parchment I had procured in Luxcuco. I let my back be flat with the ground, and let my mind wander with the stars. I began jotting down individual dots in the sky and made sure to emphasize the unique constellations that composed the black canvas...

My artistic venture was interrupted by an unexpected squeak. My pen nearly streaked across the masterpiece, but my finger held firm.

"Mark...I can't sleep."

I replied, "Hmmm? What's wrong?"

Her head peeped out of her blanketed cacoon. Her eyes were already red, but I could tell that they were bloodshot.

She said, "Something's been occupying my mind for some time. I can't stop thinking about it."

I replied, "Do you want to talk about it?"

She looked away, and her white hair covered her face. Her discomfort was as bright as day, and the only thing that filled the air was the crackling of the nearby fire.

I said, "You don't have to if you don't want to. But just know you can tell me anything. We've only known each other for a couple of months, but you already feel like a sister to me. If I can do anything to help, feel free to ask."

Somewhere beneath Lumina's lot of hair, I spotted a smile. Not one that simply expressed happiness, but one that acknowledged the amount of trust in our relationship. In my time with the manakete, I began to see her as more than a friend. I began to see her as part of my family. Perhaps it was all the hardship that we had to go through...and all of the triumph that accompanied it. Maybe it was the fact that she resembled a cousin I had in my old life, or that she had a similar personality as her. Regardless, I don't care if we aren't related by blood.

I'll stand by here just like she stood by me. That is my guarantee.

Lumina said, "I'm truly blessed to have you in my life."

Enthusiastically, I gave her a thumbs up.

"Same here. I won't rest until both of us get our lives back."

She brushed away some of her hair from her face. The cut across it was still visible but had decreased in size. Still, it didn't hide the mischevious grin she wore.

She said, "Ah, in that case, you'll have to start calling me big sister, little brother. I am much MUCH older than you."

I rolled my eyes.

"In your dreams. Any reality involving that is just going to end up with you catching these hands."

We broke into a fit of laughter. The comradeship was so intense, that my abs began to scream in pain. It took several minutes for us to calm down. That and a groggy Raven told us to shut it...

After several moments, the camp was surrounded by a familiar calm. Lumina and I found ourselves alone again, and the moonlight lit up the manakete's hair like a lantern. It was now when Lumina finally felt comfortable to discuss here concerns.

She said, "Hey Mark...what do you think happens to us when we die?"

I jolted up into the air. Although I had been expecting something deep, her dark comment left me scrambling for words.

 _ **A:** The answers quite simple. Your DNA is harvested to make a cold hearted killer._

 **M:** I'm ignoring you.

The manakete's red eyes were just begging for an answer.

 _Why does she have to look so much like my cousin now?! I can't just give her some half-assed reply._

With little time to spare, I mustered the best response I could.

"Where I'm from, there are many different answers to that question. Some people think that you are brought before an all-seeing God, while others think that you simply reincarnate into a new being. The concept of a soul is agreed upon by the majority, but others are more fluid. To be completely honest, there really isn't any way to be sure. With that being said, I think we should use the little time we do have on Earth the best way we can. Do what you have to do to live your life out in happiness. Spend time with your family, play games with your friends, or heck even lock yourself in your room alone with a book. Live out your life the best way you can, because we don't know what's on the other side."

My old world was a conglomerate of differing faiths and beliefs. But despite those differences, the general consensus on life was the same. Live it the beat way you can.

Lumina said, "By the way you said that...it almost seems like you're not from here."

A small drop of sweat fell down my forehead. Had it not been for the moisture in the air, Lumina might've thought I was nervous.

I replied, "Er...you can say that."

Lumina looked out at the stars I had just been admiring earlier. She gave a big sigh. It was clear that she still had something to get off her chest.

She said, "Mark...I fear death. When I was jumped by those people, I saw my life flash before my eyes. I've always thought I was strong enough to face anybody...yet I was helpless against them. I feel like...I'm scared my end could happen at any moment. Its been bothering me."

Fear of death is a very rational phobia to have. Despite that, it can still cause distress among people that focus on it too much. It can consume them, and push them to do things they wouldn't otherwise do. I had to choose my next few words carefully.

I replied, "I do too Lumina. But if I spend all my time worrying about it, then I'll have no time actually living my life. Our deaths are inevitable, so we shouldn't waste valuable time worrying about it. We should focus on what we value now, and not what will happen when the end comes. After all, we worry about death because of the potential experiences lost and effects this could have on our loved ones. Once we are dead, we won't be held down by such negative thoughts. Thus, we shouldn't worry about our end because it serves as a distraction to what really matters. This is accomplishing everything that we ever wanted; so that once we do die, we will have lived a fruitful existence."

I was surprised that I even had that in me. I was an engineering student by trade, and philosophy was never my strong suit. Regardless, Lumina absorbed my philosophical dialogue like a sponge.

She asked, "So the key to this is...by not caring about death at all?"

I replied, "Kinda. I mean ultimately death is going to happen anyway. Its assurance is no different than the weather or gravity. It will always be there...so why fight it?"

Lumina smiled. It was clear that she was beginning to feel better.

She asked, "One more thing...Mark, can I ask a favor from you?"

I replied, "Anything."

She cleared her throat...

Later, Lumina laid comfortably in her bedding. She was comfortable, and her mind was clear of all obstructions. She snored blissfully as I laid underneath the stars.

My star map was almost complete right now. It was amazing to see everything in the visible night sky in tangible form. Every constellation was meticulously placed on the sheet, with lines indicating the symbols that they formed. Despite having just created my greatest work of art, something else occupied my mind.

I had just made a promise with Lumina. I hoped I'd never have to fulfill it, but I would do anything to bring her peace of mind. Although I didn't realize it then, second to my marriage vows, it would be the greatest promise I'd ever make in my life.

* * *

 **Unknown date, Missurian Jungle...**

I ducked as the wild boar's skull slammed into a nearby tree. The big timber snapped in half instantly, and it fell onto the floor with a mighty thud. I stood my ground as I readied my lance for the next incoming attack, but I felt a tug coming from below my ankle.

A stray vine had lodged itself onto my leg. I gave it another pull, but it stood firm. I considered dropping my lance to give it a go with my dagger, but I knew that I lacked the time.

The wild boar had recovered from its initial blow. Turning its head towards me, I gritted my teeth as it began to gain speed...

WHIFF! CRACK!

The beast fell onto the ground. A mighty arrow was implanted inside of its right eye, the only weak spot in its cranium. This was the work of a skilled marksman.

"Got him! Mark are you alright?"

Lumina had the tip of her bow pointed towards the beast's body. After a moment of hesitation, I saw her shoulders relax. She was certain that she had successfully felled the beast, and felt comfortable enough to inquire about my condition.

A squirming snake fell from the canopy above. Judging by its bright colors, I inferred that it was venomous. Since I wasn't trained to throw my lance like a spear, all I could do was scream at the top of my lungs.

"Lumina! Over your head!"

She quickly swerved her bow towards the air, but Raven had beaten her to it. He sliced the animal in two, and the snake toxic innards splashed all over her hair. Pockets of her white hair immediately turned black, probably due to the venom's acidic nature burning it. Lumina was flustered, but it was clear that she was alright.

"Hey! Over here!"

Simon was in the middle of hand to hand combat with a rabid ape much larger than him. His lance was nowhere to be seen, and by the looks of it, he was losing...and badly. The Illian knight had just enough strength to prevent the animal from inserting its teeth into his neck, but it was clear the stalemate was going to end soon.

I ordered, "Lumina! Hostile and a friendly on our six! Don't miss!"

Lumina obliged and delivered a precise arrow into the ape's left bicep. Although the shot wasn't lethal, the ape no longer had as much leverage as before. With this new advantage, Simon summoned some inner strength and threw the massive beast from him. With the two at their feet once again, the two adversaries sized each other up. We had the benefit of numbers, and after taking one good look at Lumina's steel bow, it disappeared into the jungle.

We cheered for our victory while Lumina cried about her hair. It would take weeks for the former's white color to return. This was one of the countless encounters that we ran into while traversing the grand Missurian jungle. We typically had about four to five engagements a day, although with our strength we didn't sustain many injuries. So far, Lumina's burnt hair was our biggest causality, and this was a reality that was very comfortable with.

I was never really fond of casualties. No...in fact I hated them. I used everything in my power to always be one step ahead of the enemy, if I didn't it would expose my troops to unnecessary risks. I attempted to play 3-D chess when others played checkers, although my recent failures exposed my shortcomings. Wallace's demise still feels like a stain in my mind, and seeing him die in front of me reinforced one important fact. Other than the enemy, I am the single most important force behind life and death on the battlefield. If I didn't improve my skills, more people would die due to my negligence...

It doesn't matter if I wasn't leading the troops during that battle. A commander is still responsible for his troops...no matter what.

It took us a day to reach the halfway point, and three to reach the last quarter portion of the journey. Everything seemed to be going well.

We were walking on the path midmorning when I saw Simon tense up. His knuckles were firmly grasping the shaft of his lance, and he was consistently eyeing the jungle around him cautiously (more than usual). It was clear that something was making him uncomfortable.

Turns out I wasn't the only person that noticed this.

Raven said, "Simon, is something unnerving you? I've never seen you this tense."

Simon's usually happy demeanor was replaced by one much more worrisome. This was unusual coming from him, and his shriveled voice was just that much more dreadful.

"Do you feel that? It's like...I feel like eyes are upon us right now. I hadn't felt this feeling since my last mission...when were ambushed in Caledonia."

The air around us stood still. It was the same sensation that occurred right before a tornado struck an area. Everyone drew their weapons as we formed a closely knit square perimeter.

Birds were grounded. Ants fled into their hills. Moles burrowed deep into the ground. Even the sunny sky had gone gray with cloud coverage. A drip of sweat began falling down the side of my cheek, and it the ground with a muffled splash.

We had heard stories about travelers that would just disappear on Oltorf trail. Urban legend stated that the ghost of a former slave would prey on any slavers it came across. Unfortunately, the same legend also stated that the former slave also had peanuts for brains, so it ended up just attacking any group of people that remotely even looked like slavers.

I chose to never believe such trivial fantasies, but the event before us was just too similar to the stories to pass up. But still, ghosts aren't real...are they?

Granted, this is the same planet where people can call down lightning from the sky. If miracles like that exist, then that opens up plenty of other unknown possibilities. Maybe ghosts do exist in this world.

But then again, maybe a ghost would have been preferable to what we were actually about to see.

A cold, confident voice interrupted our silence. It emerged from an unknown location, probably somewhere in the canopy above. It sounded like a hawk had just discovered its prey.

"Finally a worthy opponent."

I felt a gush of wind to my right, and I had just enough time to parry an incoming blow. A dash of blue and black clouded my vision.

The sheer force from the attack splintered the tip of my weapon immediately. The inferior, soft steel that composed it exploded into a million pieces. Hot fragments were inserted deep into my right arm and chest; causing me to writhe into the ground in pain.

Blood began to puddle into the floor, and Lumina immediately came to my aid.

She exclaimed, "Mark!"

I replied, "I'm hit! What the hell was that?!"

I lifted my eyes to see our aggressor. He had long black hair and had clothing that I recognized to be sacaen of origin. His sword resembled a Japanese katana, and my mouth fell open when I observed its wavy surface.

That type of steel was only seen in one metal, the famed Damascus steel that had long been lost to history in my world. Its toughness and lethality was unmatched, and could not be replicated with the advanced technology of any modern nation. This material may or may not have been significant to the military prowess of a certain monotheistic empire in the middle east, but the material was sought after regardless.

Now, this man had a sword with the metal in his possession. His eyes carried an intense bloodlust, and they were glaring at us with ill intent. Without modern steel processing techniques in my old world, Missurian steel is notorious for being very soft and low quality on its own. In a prolonged engagement, or weapons would fail after a single parry. This man could very well take us all on at once and come out victorious.

The swordsman said, "Ah...I knew I'd find you in this jungle. Prepare yourself _Masked Mercenary_. I, Karel, the Sword Demon, will be your next opponent."

* * *

I winced in pain from my wound. Simon was hurryingly ripping out shrapnel from my flesh while Lumina prepared a vulnerary. It was important that all foreign objects was removed from my wound, otherwise, my flesh would just regrow around it causing me more pain.

Raven was holding his ground against the Sword Demon. The two in the middle of a prolonged staring contest, waiting for the first sign of weakness. It was tense, but Raven was nowhere near faltering.

I exclaimed, "Raven! Be careful! Our weapons are no-"

I held my tongue. I was on the brink of telling our enemy some potentially deadly information. Our weapons were no good against him.

No one in my party was aware of this fact. To them, steel was steel, and it was the same regardless of what alloy it was, how many impurities it had, or how well it was constructed. As an engineering student, these details were as bright as day, but to them, it was anything but. One precise, vertical blow on anyone's blade would be enough to shatter it. That development would rapidly conclude in all of our deaths.

It was best that I didn't share this information aloud. If Karel knew, he would engage in an aggressive strategy that we could not counter. Also, right now a jab at Raven's confidence would do more harm than good. I needed time for my friends to heal my wound, and Raven was successfully providing that.

As always, Time was my most precious commodity. If I have enough of it, I could think of a way for us to get out of this mess. In order to do that, I needed information.

I exclaimed, "Sword Demon! Why did you attack us?"

Karel shifted his gaze towards me. My gut dropped as I realized what color his eyes were.

They were gold. Couple that with his black hair...and he might be...

No, that's not possible. Nergal has no idea where I am, and he doesn't have the signature blood red lips. Sure, he does have plenty of the blood lust associated with monsters like Azazel, but there's a very real possibility that golden eyes and black hair are a natural trait here. It's important not to forget that people with hair color from all over the rainbow exist.

I pushed this thought to the back of my mind. Right now, I'll just treat this man like a normal human being. A crazed one, but still human.

He replied, "I need no reason to attack you. I simply live to kill strong opponents. I've traveled this planet to find them. I've slain the Ice Emperor of Ilia, and Kelles, the Rock Giant of the western Isles. I heard of legends about a masked mercenary that saved a town from countless undead, and my blade immediately felt tempted to cover itself with your blood. Tell this red-haired buffoon to step aside. I sense great power within you, and I do not wish to stain my weapon with weak impurities."

Lumina had since successfully patched up my wound. Now that I was free to move as I please, we joined Raven in his faceoff against Karel. The red-haired mercenary was writhing with anger.

Raven angrily spat, "How dare you underestimate me? You'll pay for those words!"

He lurched forward with his sword in hand. I tried to grab him, but he was simply to fast. It wasn't long until he was within striking distance.

I exclaimed, "Raven no!"

I blinked and for a second Karel disappeared. There was a loud metal shriek, and Raven was stopped dead in his tracks...

His weapon had been cleaved in two. Due to the way his sword was constructed, it didn't shatter. However, Karel's weapon cut into it like butter, leaving Raven completely defenseless.

Raven whimpered, "H-How?"

Karel appeared behind us, and Simon got quickly took to the vanguard. Although the knight was covered head to toe in armor, I knew it would fail under the demon's precise strikes.

The Sword Demon snickered. He was playing us like a damn fiddle.

He said, "There's no use in playing with toys like that. Not even worth cutting into your friend's stomach for. It's sad...truly disappointing."

Karel took a moment to wipe his blade of metal shrapnel. Despite the cleaning, the blade still had thick blood stains all around it.

My mind raced for answers. I didn't have much time, so I went with the first option that appeared in my head. To appeal to the man's reason.

I replied, "What's the point of picking a fight with us then? My weapon is destroyed and these people's lives mean nothing to you. Why not let us go? The law of Sacae states that you are not allowed to fight a defenseless opponent, and my friends would do nothing but dirty your blade."

Earlier, I remember Lyn mentioning many things about her sacaen culture. At times like these, I was glad that I did.

Of everyone in our group, only Simon and Lumina still had functional weapons. Once Simon our only frontline unit fell, Lumina would be dealt with soon after.

The Sword Demon ignored my plea for mercy. It appeared he was sacaen in dress only and had shed his culture's laws a long time ago.

Karel said, "I hadn't quenched my blade's thirst in a long time. Perhaps your knight will serve as a good appetizer. It's a shame that your weapons are useless, otherwise, I might've gained some enjoyment from this fight. Oh well...I didn't come all of this way for nothing."

The Sword Demon lunged forward at Simon. At the very moment, time stood still. My breath slowed, and my mind cleared. The wind around us stopped blowing, and my friends were immobile. It was at this moment when a familiar voice called out to me.

 ** _A:_** _Use it Samuel. Use my gift._

I realized that it was time to reveal my trump card.

Digging my index finger into my boot, I pulled out three sheets of fire spells. Catching my allies and foes alike unaware, I whispered the familiar incantation.

" _Pulvis ex igni summam potestatem ades_!"

A stream of hot plasma expelled from my palm. The magical jet of fire whizzed just above Simon's head, and it landed squarely in Karel's chest.

"Agh!"

The Sword Demon howled in pain but was still standing. I hadn't fired off a fire spell in ages, and that reflected in the temperature that the plasma reached. Usually, my attacks had enough heat to melt steel, but this time I was only able to deliver a nasty 3rd-degree burn.

My friends were standing in shock of my feat. They had never seen me use magic before, and I had never mentioned being able to use it. I had feared that if I had done so then I would have to explain why I had withheld this ability before, which would eventually lead to more inquiries in my past and so on. I wanted to avoid all of that, so I simply decided to never bring it up.

But now I didn't have a choice. My secret was front and center for the world to see.

Though, I quickly realized that Azazel had added a nasty consequence to my newfound ability.

I felt dizzy, along with an urge to throw up. I nearly fell onto the ground, and the world seemed to spin.

 **M:** W-What's going on?

A peal of laughter only audible to me rocked my eardrums.

 _ **A:** Should have read the fine print tactician! Every time you use magic, I temporarily gain control of your body! Finally...an opportunity to blow off some steam!_

 **M:** Y-You tricked me!

 _ **A:** That I did, otherwise you never would have signed on for it. I'd be careful in the future tactician, continued use of my magic under these conditions will weaken your mind over time. Use too much of it...and you'll hand over this body to me! As for that swordsman..._

 _ **A:** We didn't make this death march to die. I'll welcome him to his own personal hell._

Azazel faced the Sword Demon. He gave a crazed smile that only a maniac could give. Likewise, Karel returned the inhuman gesture. This was to be a battle between two monsters, with all human considerations discarded.

Azazel spoke with a voice that was similiar to Mark's, but much more sinister.

"You're dead meat."

Karel looked at his oppenent. Something about him had obviously changed, and outrageous amounts of power radiated from this being. He was nothing like the weakling before him, who had kept all of his energy tucked away. This being gladly showed it off, and his crazed smile showed him that it shared the same bloodlust that he had.

He gripped his sword harder. This was going to be the fight he was waiting for.

Lumina and the others looked on as their friend seemingly changed in demeanor. He wouldn't respond to his name anymore and didn't even appear to recognize him. Simon proposed that perhaps the tactician was possessed...and that scenario seems likely.

Lumina felt a pain in her gut. She felt betrayed that Mark hadn't disclosed to her his magical abilities, but those feelings would be dealt with at a later date. As for now, all she can do is watch as whatever is possessing her brother's body faced the Sword Demon.

Not wanting to lose the initiative, Karel struck first. He struck for Azazel's abdomen, but all he could feel was air. The being slipped behind his back and attacked him with an unseen dagger.

SLICE!

Karel managed to avoid the worst of the blow. Swerving his body out of the way, the cloth that made up his clothing was cut. Taking a step back, he realized that his opponent had delivered a shallow cut up his back.

This was a signature move used by King Azazel. The subject of many assasination attempts, he would often slip behind his would-be assassin and stab the man through the back. He had perfected this technique so well that it produced a body count of at least 60; now it was being used by his clone.

Karel didn't have a second to breathe when a jet of green flame was shot at him. Not wanting to suffer another burn, he side-stepped out of the way.

CRUNCH!

The Sword Demon quickly realized what happens when you sit in an unfamiliar jungle for weeks without proper conditioning. His ankle gave in at a weird angle, and he fell towards the floor.

Azazel lurched towards the downed sacaen. Knife in hand, he prepared to end this man's life where he laid. His vision had turned red, and all sense of reason was turned off.

Quickly, Karel held his sword in front of him.

SLURP!

His steel sword effortlessly punctured through the man's stomach. It came out the other end, and Azazel spat out a pint of blood.

Karel smiled. Standing up, he rammed his opponent against a nearby tree. His opponent was in no condition to continue fighting. All that was left to do was simply confirming the kill.

The blood that was bathing his blade was adequately quenching its thirst. Like a near-dead vampire, it recieved new life. It began healing itself of its past battles, and all of its cracks disappeared. It looked good as new.

But then again, it would only be a few weeks until his blade craved for another victim. Then he would have to repeat the endless cycle of murder that his blade required. In addition, his blade was greedy, demanding stronger and stronger opponents to feel satisfied.

Although the blade in conjunction with his skills provided a lot of strength, he often questioned the purpose of obtaining such power. He had no family, he had killed them to obtain the Wo Dao. His sister had been sent away a long time ago so that he wouldn't feel tempted to murder her as well. It didn't provide immortality or control over a group of people. He wondered if he was getting power simply for power's sake, but such philosophical questions were best not answered by an uneducated warrior such as himself.

His thoughts were interrupted by a stir from his blade. Looking down at his opponent, he was surprised that he was still alive. Not only that, but his eyes had not yet shut due to blood loss.

Karel gasped. His heart began racing at light speed as he looked into his opponent's eyes.

The had not changed at all. Despite all of the pain that was going his way, they did not seem affected by it. This man was not at the cusp of death.

In fact, he was far from it.

Azazel rapidly grasped the collar of the Sword Demon. He placed his left hand on the man's chest.

"Checkmate."

Karel could not dodge such a blow point blank. An explosion rocked this end of the jungle, sending a massive shockwave in all directions.

Azazel had used a move previously known only to the tactician. He called it "shotgunning" an opponent, which used a fire tome to create an uncontrolled explosion as opposed to a precise stream of fire. In a modern sense, it can be done by short-circuiting a fire tome. It can only be used at point blank, but it's the most powerful spell that can be derived from a simple fire spell.

Karel was sent flying into the air. He disappeared amid the surrounding brush.

Azazel considered chasing after him, but the wounds sustained along with the mana lost was too much to endure. He fell onto the floor and relented control back to the tactician.

For a split second, I managed to spot a glimpse of my horrified friends. Their expressions were enough to convince me that something truly terrifying just happened.

I started coughing up blood uncontrollably. An intense, sharp pain surrounded my abdomen. Placing my hand over it, my eyes widened as I saw the gruesome wound. Succumbing to shock, everything began to turn hazy.

I fell onto the ground, but my senses were so clouded I didn't even notice. The last thing I heard before I passed out was the hushed whispers of what I could only assume to be fate itself.

* * *

 **Dread Isle...**

Nergal silently observed the grand structure he had holed himself in. Long, cracked hallways with no windows. Moss was growing in the tall, vacant ceilings. Spiders crawled around in the damp crevices. Other than those insects, Nergal was more or less alone save for a few servants.

He had spent the entire day busily making morphs for his coming army. Eventually, he hoped, it would be large enough to conquer a country. But that would require countless amounts of quintessence, a substance that his agents were currently out procuring. It would take a while, but ultimately all of their efforts would be worth it.

"Master, I have an urgent message from an agent in Carazan."

Nergal noticed that Limstella, his favorite creation, had snuck up on him once again. Although she was flawless in beauty, strength, and obedience, she was never the type of person to take other people's concerns into account. This was due to her complete and utter lack of emotion, a trait that Nergal took great pride in. Even if Limstella was a bore in small talk, she was never subject to erratic, irrational behavior that haunted beings like humans.

Limstella handed him a stroll and took her leave. Nergal soon found himself alone again, with nothing but the stroll, his throne, and a candle.

The message was simple, and cut straight to the point:

 _Green flames have engulfed part of the Missurian Jungle._

Nergal cracked a wide, sinister smile.

Truly, this was a time for action.


	25. Destination

**Chapter 22: Destination**

 **By SodiumChloride12, derived from Fire Emblem, owned by Nintendo.**

 **A/N: Some of y'all may already know, but every OC character you see in this story is at least loosely based on another.**

 **Fun fact: Barthillas and Yanden are based on characters my best friends made for World of Warcraft.**

 **Of course, some are like Taliyah who aren't based on anyone in particular and carry their own unique flavor. Leaving little Easter eggs like this makes writing this story a bit more fun.**

 **P.S: Y'all some of these reviews are hilarious XD. Others are very constructive. All are welcome...and I truly appreciate them.**

 **N: Finding himself in a dreamy haze, Mark is called upon by an unfamiliar voice.**

* * *

 _"Samuel..."_

 _"Wake up..."_

 _"Your friends need you..."_

 _That voice...I recognized its source. It was from the fair maiden of Proxima Centauri._

 _Everything around me was black. I couldn't see anything, not even my own body. It was like my sense of sight was completely shut off._

 _I called out to the voice._

 _"Ma'am! Where are you?!"_

 _My plea was replied with silence. I felt like the aura of her presence was fading by the minute._

 _I heard one last whimper before she faded away._

 _"Danger...! Danger lurking around you! Hiding with the common folk they are! City in turmoil! Watch your words you must!"_

 _Then like a flame without oxygen, she was snuffed out. All that I was left with was her cryptic message..._

I woke up with a fading pain in my stomach. My arms and legs still felt weak, but I was still able to move them. Mild remnants of second-degree burns covered my left hand, along with plenty of white bandages. It still felt uncomfortable to touch, so I surmised that it would be wise to delegate everything to my right while it healed.

I took a moment to observe my surroundings.

I was in a baby blue room that had stone floors and a large, floral blue carpet. My bedside table had a globe of the continent of Elibe, with its bright colors emphasizing the theoretical borders of each country. A marble statue of an armored woman with a spear (it had an uncanny resemblance to lady liberty in the states) stood confidently at a corner. A bust of a bearded, robed man was glaring at me intently. A window was being covered by some drapes, robbing me of much-needed sunlight.

Despite the stuffy environment, it was clear that this was no simple hotel room. This was the abode of someone high standing. Someone who had a clear interest in my well-being.

At first, my intuition suggested that this was the work of Matthew's employer. But I quickly dismissed it. His employer would not have been comfortable leaving me in here alone while I was so vulnerable. He/she would have left a guard, or maybe one of my trustworthy friends to secure their investment.

My thought process was interrupted by some snoring. Shifting my gaze to an unseen corner, I realized that I wasn't alone at all.

Lumina was slumped against her chair. Her white hair was still against the lack of airflow, and it was lazily moving with her snores. Amusingly, drool was flowing from her mouth onto her chair, creating a bit of a mess.

I held the temptation to giggle. Lumina was most definintly exhausted from the long journey. It was likely she and the others had to carry my body to town while I was unconscious. It was likely an unfortunate task, but one she took on nevertheless.

As if on cue, Lumina stopped snoring and raised her head towards me. Manaketes must have some innate ability that allows them to notice when a person is looking at them. She had some morning dizziness but soon came to her senses.

She said, "To think it was you who would find me waking up."

I smiled. Not because I had found some humor in her remark, but simply because I was fortunate enough to hear her voice. If I was being honest with myself, I was unsure if I would have ever regained my body after the battle with Karel. I was just glad I did.

I replied, "I'm about surprised as you. This is the first time it's happened to me."

This would have been time to partake in a little bit of laughter. But Lumina face held firm. It was clear that she was upset.

It was at that point where I realized the full brunt of my actions. Allowing a monster like Azazel free reign in a fight wouldn't be glossed over or even forgotten. The resulting consequences would arguably be as severe as Karel's blade.

She said, "Mark...to think after all this time you were keeping things from me. After all we've been through...after all the things I've told you about myself."

I was not prepared to take heat once I woke up. Usually calm and composed during situations like these, all I could do was fold under the pressure.

"..."

My lack of response was all it took for her to go off on me. Her face went red with anger as I was hit with a million daggers.

"I-I've never felt so betrayed! Do you understand how I felt when you fought that man by yourself? How some evil force took hold of your body...how surprised I was?! How I thought I knew everything about you?! How even after I told you I was defiled by those men you didn't even mention you could fling a little fire with your wrist?!"

I replied, "Lumina...I..."

She continued with the same ferocity.

"Is Mark even your real name?! Is the person I've toiled with, fought with, and lived with been a manufactured persona this whole time?! Have I just been a pawn in your games tactician?!"

After her outburst, she calmed down. Resigning herself to her seat, she silently sobbed onto her arm.

I had been putting up a persona, but I had always done it to protect myself and the people around me. Had they known that I inhabited the same body as that monster Azazel, they likely would have killed me on the spot. Mark was always a moniker I used, as it was a name given by my beloved after all.

In my entire journey with Lumina, I had never considered Lumina's feelings in all of this. She had formed a relationship with someone that isn't 100% the real me.

Maybe it was time she did.

I put the mask I was wearing and put it on my bedside table. My unique eyes were now completely in view.

I said, "Lumina...you are the only person I am comfortable seeing me without my mask on. Do you know why I wear it so religiously?"

Lumina shook her head. She remembered how she first saw him without his prized possession. The slavers had stolen his initial mask prior to when they first met. As they were sailing across the sea, she managed to catch a glimpse of his face through the use of some stray light. She was amazed at his unique set of eyes, but she didn't suspect anything sinister. After that, Mark was comfortable being without his mask around her.

I said, "I'm going to tell you everything about me, but you're going to have to swear on your life that you don't tell anyone. I have a dark past, and if you won't guarantee that then I'm afraid you'll have to continue not knowing who I really am. Can you promise me that this conversation won't leave the room?"

Lumina had been waiting for this moment ever since she first picked up his body from the prickly, jungle floor. She nodded in agreement.

I said, "Okay, it all started when I woke up in a hut in Sacae..."

* * *

Jaffar silently made his way through the crowd, trying his best to blend in. This task was especially easy for him, as his stealth along with his tanned skin made it easy to do so. It was as if he was among his countrymen.

To be fair, technically he was. He was born in this city, although his parents were long dead by the time he reached the age of three. They were killed in one of the many political squabbles that this town engulfed itself in every other decade; adding their names to the ranks of revolutionaries, anarchists, and other visionaries. He was damned to a fate of poverty and squalor at the local orphanage had it not been for the hand of Nergal.

He still remembers the moment when his entire world changed. Nameless hostile men invaded his little orphanage and struck down everyone that called it home. His caretaker, an older cleric woman, was killed without hesitation. They pillaged everything in sight and burnt the building down to the ground. He was caught in the inferno, and the last thing he remembered was the smoke depriving him of clean air. He was later told that Nergal found him asleep under the rubble on top of a pile of bodies, and he was brought under his wing soon after.

Jaffar often questioned why Nergal was there that day, or why he felt it necessary to take care of him. Maybe Nergal someone wanted to care for...but he doubted it. Nergal was never a proper father figure to him, and he seemed to only value him for his use with a blade. The lack of love and affection had a huge effect in his life, causing him to become emotionless, much like the morphs Nergal commanded. Sometimes he wondered if he was human at all and if Nergal had manufactured him like the other morphs. Maybe his origin story was fabricated as well, but he could never know for certain. That man always seemed to have some type of forbidden magic up his sleeve, and he didn't doubt the possibility that he had a spell that could implant memories.

But such questions could be answered at a later date. For now, it was important he focused on his mission.

Or rather, we.

A man was following him close by. He was wearing a long, purple robe that concealed most of his features. Despite that, one could still observe his black hair, golden eyes, and blood red lips.

Jaffar said, "It's a pleasure to see that you're holding up well Ephidel."

Ephidel's face didn't react to that gesture. He was one of the more emotionless morphs, a being that was less responsive towards emotional stimuli. Although it made it a bit awkward when trying to make small-talk, Jaffar was never the one that enjoyed such pleasantries. Nergal seemed to think the same way, as many of his creations share that trait.

Ephidel replied using a voice as monotone as they come.

He said, "Focus on the mission. It's our job to find the source of that mysterious forest fire. We can start by questioning the local populace."

Jaffar mentally groaned. He didn't like talking to people, especially since he could much more effectively gather information with the threat of force. Unfortunately, in hotbeds like Carazan, public opinion was everything to the Black Fang.

Carazan was always a hot, bloody mess. It was a melting pot of incompatible ideals, with democracists, anarchists, socialists, and other revolutionaries lurking in its alleyways, bars, and other public places. Although the monarchist faction was able to hold on the reins of power for centuries, it was unknown for how long. That sneaky emperor had been playing the other smaller factions against one another, but eventually, even the dimmest of common folk would catch onto his games.

Enter the Black Fang. At first, they infiltrated the city with small numbers. Then, after bloating their numbers with disenfranchised locals, they started infiltrating the different political factions. This caused a situation where some of the factions; like the anarchists, were effectively dominated by fangsmen. Others, like the democracists and the monarchists, only had a few members. This was a short-handed development, but Nergal was pleased nonetheless.

Nergal was clearly planning to do something villainous; judging from his past affairs. Regardless, Jaffar didn't hold any sort of attachment to these people. How could he...it's not like they've done anything to help him (or even themselves). That's why he felt comfortable with the Fang doing as they pleased. He didn't completely understand Nergal's plan, nor did he desire to. All he did was follow orders, not question them.

They continued their way down the street, taking note of the highly urbanized nature of Carazan. Carazan was situated in some of the only cleared, flat land in the whole country. Surrounded by isolating jungle, perhaps it was only natural that tempers would flare among these cramped people. Carazan wasn't exactly hospitable, but the jungle did flood the city with a plethora of raw materials. Although Missur was notorious for having poor metals, it did have high-quality timber, medicine, and Tin.

As they say, every blessing comes with a curse and vice versa. Ultimately, everything is balanced in the end.

But the Fang and especially Nergal didn't favor the current balance of power. Some long overdue changes were in order.

Ephidel separated himself from the crowd with Jaffar close behind. He entered a dark alleyway, which was filled to the brim with poor residences. Orphaned children and drunks littered the corridor.

Jaffar asked, "Which door is the right one?"

Ephidel paused as he recounted information from his master.

He took a step forward, "Four houses down."

Jaffar and Ephidel walked four houses down. Two doors were on opposite sides of the walls, and both had potted plants sitting outside. One was brown, the other was green.

He turned towards the apartment on the right, "Knock on the door with the brown potted plant."

Jaffar knocked on the door. A slit that was eye level opened to reveal a guard.

He said, "Password?"

Ephidel replied, "Glory to the divine Emperor. Hail to the empowered power of Carazan."

The slit closed shut. A moment passed while the guard unlocked the countless locks that barred the door. Once his labor was done, the duo entered the building.

The first thing that captured Jaffar's vision was the large flag fixed to the wall.

It was a truly unsettling banner. It had a black background, representing the death of their enemies. The crest of Carazan was located centrally, with a bundle of fasces underneath it. A phrase was also visible, and it was written in Marpol, a language predating the Scouring.

It read: _Revolution with the Creator, the Emperor, and the people. All will fall under our boots._

Everyone around him was wearing brown shirts. Men and women were chatting about subjects ranging from hairstyles to political ideals. A portrait of the emperor was hanging on the wall. Despite his regal presence, beer was effortlessly flowing through the crowd.

Jaffar couldn't understand why Nergal would want to associate with such people. They went on and on about some stupid political utopia, one that would impossible to achieve. On top of that, their lack of discipline was appalling. He couldn't believe that some of the black fang could associate with these people.

A man with a long sword approached the duos. Judging from his military attire, along with his important looking appearance, Jaffar surmised that he was the leader of this band of wanna-be military men.

He said, "Greetings! Hail to Carazan! I take that you two are representatives from the Black Fang...?"

* * *

I took a deep breath. Then exhaled. It had taken me several hours to recount my entire story to Lumina, along with answering obvious questions.

She asked, "So you came here...from another world? One that is much more technologically advanced than ours? How can that be?"

I replied, "I'm not sure...from what Azazel's been telling me my origin comes from a speck of stardust. On a side note, due to my studies, I have plenty of future knowledge that may be of use to us. Might be difficult though, we don't have many of the materials that my old world took for granted."

She then questioned me about the elephant in the room. The infamous Azazel.

She asked, "Azazel is...really inhabiting your conscious right now? Is he talking to you right now?"

 _A: You sure bet I am you dumb b-_

I said, "Er...I wish he wasn't."

She also asked a bunch of other questions. These included my profession as a tactician, my magical abilities, my journeys in Swampmarsh, Badon, and Porrety, etc. I gave enough information to write a memoir, but I was confident that Lumina was satisfied with my account.

At the end of it all, one thing still bugged her.

She asked, "Is there anything about the future I should know about?"

My forehead wrinkled as I thought of the many things that they did in the medieval age that would be considered unthinkable or unsanitary in my age. I chose to start her off light.

I said, "First off, wash your hands before every meal. Also, when you can take a bath every day. There's loads of other stuff but I don't want to break your mi-"

Knock Knock!

There was a knock on the door. Lumina stood up and went to answer it. Opening the door, we saw a young man with a suit.

He had olive skin and dark blue hair. He was about my size and build while displaying more elegance. He had a scar just above his left eye. In addition, he also had a noticeable vanilla scent to him. Judging from his attire, I concluded that he was the resident butler.

He said, "Greetings...my name is Brutus. Pleased to make your acquaintance. My lord Emperor Elred is waiting for you."

I was taken aback by his accent. It resembled the posh British ones you see in the movies. Does everyone speak this way here?

Brutus tilted his head.

He inquired, "Does my accent bother you? I can change it to this land's manner of tongue if it pleases you."

 _A: I'd be careful. This man can either read your mind or your non-verbals. Either way, he's dangerous._

 **M:** I know that!

He added, "Are you unwell? You appear to be talking to yourself."

 **M:** Kill me.

I replied, "N-No. I'm fine. I just got done talking to my sister here you see. A-And don't you think it's a little invasive to be reading people's minds?"

"La La La La!"

Lumina was covering her ears and yelling out loud like that could prevent Brutus from reading her mind. My face went red with embarrassment.

I pointed my finger towards Lumina, "That isn't going to work you brat!"

Like a child, she replied, "La La I can't hear you!"

I shot back, "For someone who's centuries-old you sure act like a toddler!"

She replied, "I can act how I want you baby boy!"

We glared at each other with killing intent. Brutus couldn't help but laugh.

"Hahaha! It's moments like these that make the job worthwhile. Seeing two siblings fight makes me reminisce of my own younger brother. Ah well...I'll refrain from reading your minds again. If nothing else than to keep my insides from hurting from the humor."

Then, he changed his tone. It was much more formal and serious than before.

"But back to business. Your accent is unlike anything I've ever heard. Mind explaining yourself?"

I held my tongue. There was no way I was going to give important information like that when withholding it would give me a better hand. I crowded out my mind with redundant information so Brutus couldn't read it. He winced his eyes as he struggled to comprehend my jargon. Looking away, he realized he had lost.

He said, "Bah! These complicated numbers are making my brain boil!"

I couldn't conceal the mischievous smirk on my face.

I replied, "Better brush up on your Trigonometry Brutus. Next time you look in there, I'll introduce you to my friend Calculus."

He backed away from the door. His legs began to shake. Memories of him struggling with basic arithmetic flooded his conscience.

He replied, "C-Calculus?!"

 _Ah, Calculus. My greatest bane in college..._

A man approached Brutus from behind. He had a similar build, dress, and hair color. Upon closer inspection, I recognized him as Brutus' twin. The only difference was that he was wearing glasses.

He said, "Stop tampering with the guest brother. Emperor Elred is losing his patience."

Twin telepathy must be a farce because his voice took Brutus off-guard.

He exclaimed, "Robert! Don't sneak on me like that! Abusing your shadow ability is strictly forbidden!"

Robert rolled his eyes.

"Yet here you are abusing yours. I wouldn't go babbling around if I were you."

After a moment of bickering between the two brothers, Brutus finally composed himself. Bowing to show us respect, he beckoned for us to follow him.

He said, "Come and follow us. His Highness the King will be waiting for in the throne room."

I looked at Lumina, with eyes that questioned whether or not we should. She gave me a slight nod, and that's all I needed to oblige.

We began making our way down the winding corridors. Our steps echoed against the empty stone like miniature claps of thunder. My white-haired friend took the initiative behind the butlers, and I walked behind her.

I asked her, "Do you know these people Lumina?"

She looked back and replied, "No...but they were the only people willing to treat your injuries after your battle with Karel. With us having no funds, I had to take any help we could get for you. Besides, they said it was their duty to help a distinguished individual such as yourself."

I questioned, "Distinguished?"

We stopped in front of a large door. It was adorned with gold, murals, and other luxuries. Robert turned towards us as he began to open it.

He said, "Your heroics have traveled across the land! Your fight against countless undead, your scuffle with the great pirate captain Whitney, your enslavement and freedom from the notorious slavers, and now your victory against the Sword Demon. My lord is honored to host the great _Masked Mercenary_!"

A bright light seemed to encase us in the sun's energy. Large windows similar to ones found on a cathedral were fixated on a wall opposite of us. Regal banners and emblems were visible everywhere. A red carpet on our feet led up to a throne currently being occupied by a man wearing a crown. Surrounding the carpet were two orderly lines of heavily armored knights. A trumpeter played a chorus to announce our arrival.

The trumpeter finished his tune. The butlers stepped aside to allow their lord a better view of their guests.

The emperor stood up from his throne and smiled. His appearance was very similar to ancient Byzantine emperors. He had a golden crown, which was engraved with all sorts of runes that I couldn't understand. His brown hair extended to his shoulders, and his upper body was completely draped with a purple robe. He also wore purple pants, along with sandals that seemed expertly crafted. He appeared to be in his mid-twenties.

He raised palm up into the air. His subordinates around him immediately took a knee to respect his authority.

Lumina took a knee as well. She looked at me with confused eyes as I had not done the same.

She whispered, "Mark...you must kneel. You need to show respect to your host."

I shifted my unwavering gaze to the pompous man standing over us. I've always hated royalty like this. They're more concerned for themselves and their self-image rather than the people they rule over. It despises me. Such people shouldn't be pampered on, and should rather be responded to with strong, independent resolve.

He raised his brow. Although I hadn't realized it then, this was the first time a simple commoner had refused to kneel in his presence.

He spoke to me as if I was a child. His brazen audacity from his perceived position of power gifted him much strength to his voice.

"Who are you Masked Mercenary? Who are you to refuse to kneel like many of your peers around you? In defiance to me and my royal knights? Are you aware that in this city my divinity is second only to the Creator himself? Your arrogance amongst a higher being such as myself is questionable. Especially so since I am your host. I ask again...who are you to feel so inclined to stand? Your mask disguises your true identity, but cannot hide your character."

In an instant, every eyeball in the room was fixated on me. I could feel a mixture of emotions, some of which were malicious in nature. Others were simply ones that carried concern over my safety.

I had suspected this would happen. I knew I wouldn't get along with these conceited people in power. Although I didn't realize it then, my dress was a complete insult to this culture. I wore a garment in all purple, a color only reserved for the emperor himself. In addition, I employed a mask to conceal my identity, an object made of Obsidian. Obsidian is a material that can only be obtained in Luxcuco, the city of their enemies. I might as well have had a giant target on my back.

I knew of the consequences of what would happen if I prodded this bee's nest any further. With potential enemies all around, I had a gap in my rationale. The deadly sin of Pride seeped into my mind, and for a second; I didn't care for my life or even Lumina. All I wanted to do was say these damning words.

Defiantly, I said, "I kneel before no man."

A wave a silence overtook the crowd. I instantly regretted what I had said, but at that point, I knew I had passed the point of no return. Sensing the aura of anger around me, I felt like an insect trapped in a spider's web.

SMASH!

A maid dropped a freshly brewed cup of tea onto the red carpet. She gasped as her light blue hair hid the look of shock on her face...

Suddenly, seven of the knights in front of me drew their swords. The blue maid and her coworkers exited the room, leaving me and Lumina surrounded by a crowd of angry men.

 _ **A:** You may have overplayed your hand tactician._

 **M:** You think I don't know that? Why the heck did I say that?

 _A: Every action has its consequences. Although this may get us killed, I don't regret putting that curse on you. If nothing else I'll die seeing you lose your cool._

 **M:** Shut up!

One of the men, who I assumed to be a junior officer said, "At your word, I will cut out his tongue milord."

I eased myself over to Lumina and placed my body over her. If someone was to die here, Elimine be damned if I were to let anyone harm her for my mistake.

The Emperor glared at me with imposing eyes, as if he were trying to read my mind. Realizing that it'd be much easier to get his butler to do it, he asked him to read my mind.

As expected, Brutus was unable to comprehend my encrypted mind. He passed out onto the ground as he was overwhelmed with integrals, derivatives, and complicated angular momentum problems. His uneducated 8th-century mind was no match for me.

The Emperor sighed and ordered his soldiers to stand down.

He said, "I'm afraid we may need him more alive than dead. Everyone clear the room. I require a private audience with the tactician and his companions."

 _Companions? Where are Simon and Raven?_

I stood still as the knight left through the door. One of the lieutenants purposely bumped me on the shoulder, and it was evident that I was likely the most disliked person in the castle.

The door closed with a loud slam. I helped Lumina up from the floor and faced the Emperor.

He sat back down on his throne and folded his legs. Putting his hands together, he laid back.

He said, "Now...I see that you're a man with plenty of pride. Do not worry, your friends are safe and are on their way. As a prideful man myself, let us speak as equals..."

"Lieutenant Colonel Carval, our countrymen desire your guidance."

Carvel looked at the ragtag group of revolutionaries that made up his trusted friends. He would be more than willing to die for them, but he was aware that would do more harm than good for their cause. His apartment could do little to hide the sheer amount of pride and honor he has for these men and women.

Carvel is a man from a family of service. His father was in the army, his grandmother was a diplomat, and his mother is a teacher. He was brought up with the ideals that the weak should be protected, and thus he joined the army to accomplish just that. Living his entire life under the sheltered, comfortable lifestyle of his well-to-do parents, it was as a dog of the military where he discovered the animalistic hellhole outside his family home.

Such a sight would have alienated any normal man from the general population. But instead, his heart churned as he empathized with these people. Day by day, month by month, the little seedling of doubt in his society's current system bloomed into a forest of insurgency. Fed up in the futilities of his fellow nobles, he opened his mind to the possibility that the people instead of useless blue bloods should rule the country. In order to see true, fulfilling change in this country; the people must take the reins of power. Let the people choose their own leaders. Democracy will bring prosperity to Carazan.

Thus Carvel separated himself from the monarchist faction and founded the democracist faction. Opening his home to like-minded peers, his faction represented the newest political group in the city. Although late to the game, their numbers quickly grew to become the third largest faction; behind the fascists and the monarchists. The democracists represented only about a fifth of the total political pie, yet they were still confident in their abilities to establish a liberal democracy.

Carvel thanked his secretary, a black-haired woman named Maria. Maria also happened to be his childhood best friend, the daughter of a household maid. Their relationship should have been forbidden, but a child's brain does not understand abstract barriers in class. They joined the army together, and Maria was the first person to join Carvel's movement. Carvel could trust this woman with his life.

In public, they were nothing more than friends. In private, it was much more. They were secretly wed by a friar who was a comrade of their culture, and the audience was empty save for some close confidants. They wouldn't keep their relationship secret if they could, but otherwise, Carvel would lose his ties to the Emperor.

A spy among the personal entourage of the Emperor. It was certain that the fascists and socialists had some as well, perhaps some as high a colonel or brigadier general. But a man as powerful as Carvel was useful in any organization, especially one as mid-tier as the democracists.

Carvel addressed his countrymen, some of whom were still shaken up by the recent purge. About a dozen men were found to have ties to the infamous Black Fang and Fascist organization and were dealt with accordingly.

He went into a vigorous and heartfelt speech. He described how despite the loss in membership, he was certain the current party will grow from this ordeal. He went into a parable comparing the democracist's struggle to Hercules' 12 labors, and how each labor will bring their movement closer to victory. He then finished off by praising some individuals by name and then concluded the speech.

The audience erupted in sound applause. Afterward, the meeting was adjourned and everyone was returned home. Maria was the last one to leave.

"Goodbye Carvel, will you be going to the Emperor's event tomorrow?"

Carvel took in a deep breath. Although he had separated himself from the monarchist faction, he still had to look like one if he were to keep his position close to the emperor. Tomorrow is the Emperor's birthday, and if he didn't attend then that would surely arise some suspicion.

He replied, "Unfortunately so. Everybody with the rank of a field grade officer and above is expected to be there. I'll leave at the first available opportunity."

Carvel didn't exactly like the thought of being stuck in a room full of enemies. He'd much rather lead the democracist weekly meetings, which he took great pride in. Anybody would prefer being in a room full of friends rather than the former.

Maria nodded her head and turned away from the door. The sun was beginning to set on Carazan, and she'd much rather be at home than risk it with the city bandits.

She said, "Very well, please be safe. If you suspect trouble, inform our agent there and I will arrive with the full might of our organization."

Their agent...one of the sympathetic castle staff. Always silent during meetings, but her resolve was true. She could easily blend into any environment and was a valuable agent to have on the inside.

Knowing that was comforting. Amongst all those enemies he'll have at least one friend.

Maria descended down the hill of his manor and left through the front gate. Confident that he was now alone, he closed the door.

He thought of the mask he'd have to put on tomorrow. A noble lieutenant colonel from a prestigious family. Amongst his peers, he'd have to pretend he liked them well enough to partake in small talk. In addition, he'd also try to obtain intrigue on the other factions. Monarchists were obviously going to be in attendance, but fascists, socialists, and even an anarchist will be present. A potential powder keg of differing ideas. He knew that he wasn't going to be the only one using a persona tomorrow.

He sat on his sofa and extended his legs. The family heirloom, a mystical sword named Melfrost hung over a fireplace.

He hoped he'd never have to use it. But if push comes to shove, he may have to.

His father raised him under the belief that political power grew out the tip of a blade. He has since thrown away such garbage rhetoric, but he knows there was a hint of truth in that sentence.

Revolution may be the only way. With the path this country is headed, Carazan is due for a brutal surprise.

Simon and Raven entered the throne room. Leading the way was Brutus, whose ears were covered with bandages. Faint spots of blood were on them, and he glared at me with an expression of distaste.

The Emperor said, "Leave us, Brutus."

Brutus bowed and did as he was told. He left the four of us alone with his lord. Reunited once more, I was just glad to be with some more familiar faces.

I shook Simon's hand. He had a bandage wrapped around his head. Most likely from a new wound received from the latter end of the trip.

He said, "Good to see you again Mark. I don't know how you were able to beat Karel back there, but it's not my business. It's good to see you fit and well."

I replied, "Same here friend."

 _ **A:** Your left hand disagrees with you._

 **M:** Let's keep that between me and you shall we?

I moved over to Raven to greet him, but all I was given was a silent stare. His red eyes made me feel like my life was in danger.

I turned around and ignored him. Simon and Lumina gave me a confused expression, but I paid them no mind. The most pressing matter was the monarch who had to speak with us.

I asked, "What would you like to talk about?"

Emperor Elred replied with a calm tone.

"You four. Do you know why I brought you before me today? Why I felt obligated to accept that girl's plea to help your friend?"

I replied, "Not really. But looking at the large military force you showed me I'm assuming you're preparing some sort of war."

He said, "You'd be right with that assumption Masked Mercenary."

He took a sip of tea on his throne. After taking a decent drink, he placed the cup back onto his armrest...

He erupted from his chair and balled up his fist in the air. His energy changed, and it took us off guard.

"My country requires your assistance. We are in the brink of civil war! I request your help in putting down the revolutionaries that have infested my homeland!"

The same sting of anger began to fill my conscious mind. How dare he ask me for help!? What good is a tyrant in this world anyways?!

Lumina noticed my fury and decided to put a stop to it. She looked at me square in the eyes as if to tell me that any further provocation would result in some discomfort from her.

I mellowed out and held my tongue. Luckily someone else was willing to carry my mantle.

Raven stepped forward. On his back was a recently acquired sword.

He said, "What good is a king if he cannot control his own citizens?"

The comment was enough to slight the monarch.

The Emperor shot back, "If you had to rule over a powder keg like Carazan you'd understand. Those lords in Etruria and Lycia have it half as hard as I do. All of their people are spread out in rural areas, while all of my people live in the city. These streets have become breeding grounds for people wanting to take power away from me. Some even want to do away with the monarchy altogether."

I said, "None of our business. It doesn't hurt or benefit us if you're on the throne."

He said, "Why you arrogant little..."

CREAK!

The door behind us opened. I was overtaken with an aura of confusion as I saw three men. One had a brown jacket, one looked like an assassin and the other...

 _Oh no..._

 _Black hair...golden eyes...red lips...how did they find me?!_

A monotone voice echoed through the throne room.

"Hello...I hope we're not late for your meeting your Highness..."


	26. Powder Keg of the West

**Chapter 23: Powder Keg of the West**

 **by SodiumChloride12, derived from Fire Emblem, owned by Nintendo.**

 **A/N: I'll be dropping two chapters for the fourth. Make sure to look out for that. If y'all found this chapter to be enjoyable, feel free to leave a review. If you didn't like it...don't hesitate to flame me. Not really though. Please don't flame me.**

 **N: Mark and friends are now under the unwilling servitude of the Carazanite monarch. Meanwhile...hidden forces prepare for a plot against the emperor's life.**

* * *

 **?...**

Aquila's muscles ached as she carried large clay bricks down the stairs. Her steps were silent against the stone steps, and she took great effort to keep it that way. It would be detrimental to her plans if anyone were to suspect she was down here.

She was in one of the countless underground tunnels that occupied the underside of the castle. With nothing but a torch for light, only the faint silhouette of the earthly walls was visible. Countless doors and destinationless passageways littered the sides of the tunnels. If one was not careful, getting yourself lost would be an easy task.

But that was no issue to Aquila. She had meticulously memorized the entire layout of the underground dungeon. Although calling the location a dungeon might be considered a stretch (the area doubled as the Emperor's private wine cellar) it still suited Aquila's plans.

She walked deeper into the labyrinth. Eventually, she found the room she was looking for. It had a front door with old engravings about heroes of old. Champions who have since been lost to history.

A little lightheaded, she opened the door and entered. The damp air around her immediately dried up as she did so, and her foot landed on an old chisel.

 _Gah!_

She hadn't put much weight on her foot, but it was all that it needed. Her foot bled as the metal broke through her flesh. The sticky crimson stained the earthen floor.

She jumped in pain and dropped her bricks. The landed in the ground around her and didn't make a sound. The thin air this deep into the earth made it difficult for Aquila to hear her own profanities.

After nursing her wound with some makeshift bandages, she began on her task. The area around was neat and orderly, although noticeable patches of dust had begun to accumulate on the furniture and flooring. This room used to be an old safe room used by the first kings of Missur, and she fully intended to restore it to some of its former glory. She had already done most of the work a while back, so all she had to do now was do some brooming and other minor spot checks.

The job was no big deal. She could do it in half an hour. That time was meaningless compared to the hours she's been spending in the past.

Although at first glance, it would appear that the young lady was doing this off the goodness of her heart. Or maybe she was accomplishing some unknown duty. But that assessment could be farther from the truth.

Tucked away in an isolated corner of the room, away from the focal point provided by the comfortable couch and table, was a clue to Aquila's true intentions. One much more malicious.

There laid a cache of bricks and mortar, along with a recently sharpened mace. At first glance, one could tell it was enough to block the doorway.

Aquila smiled as she continued her labor. Not for the gratitude of her work, or even that the pain in her foot was beginning to subside.

Tomorrow was the day everything was going to change. The day her target would be most vulnerable. It would be a valuable opportunity.

An opportunity for revenge.

* * *

 **Throne Room...**

My eyes widened as I observed the features of our new visitors. One was definitely human (albeit a cold one) and the other was anything but. Coupling his physical appearance with his monotone voice, I was certain he was a morph. The icing on the cake would be if...

The Emperor said, "Ah! My friends from the Black Fang. Pleased to see you have joined us."

 _Shit._

I gave a worried look to my allies. Although it was virtually impossible to read my facial expression through my mask, Lumina was able to read my discomfort. Sweat droplets began to form around my body, and it made my cloak look like it had taken on a weird form of the plague. I had to make a conscious effort to keep my breathing steady, as I feared that the morph would be able to read my nonverbals like a book.

My emotions spread to the rest of the group like it was quickly going out of style. Lumina's knuckles turned white as she held onto a hidden dagger. Simon's gray hair almost went white as he observed the duo. Raven, a being usually calm under duress, had a stray twitch of the brow.

Here is when I learned how my friends reacted under stress. Lumina went defensive, choosing to stay close to her perceived kin. Simon was also defensive but took an aggressive stance, choosing to not give up an inch. I was a wild card; playing the situation by ear. As for Raven.

He was always on the offensive.

He marched up towards the throne, with his finger pointing at the monarch.

He said, "What is the meaning of this?! Why did you bring in these criminals?"

It appeared I wasn't the only one aware of the Black Fang's infamous reputation.

Simon added, "If you're suggesting that we work with these dark folk, then I'll have to decline. My knight's honor prohibits me."

 _ **A:** It appears we're not the only ones who have something against the Fang._

 **M:** Funny, I was under the assumption you liked them.

 _ **A:** I like their methods, but returning to them would put me at a disadvantage. They'd fuse our personalities together and I'd lose control again. That is not something I want to repeat._

 **M:** Interesting.

 _ **A:** Watch your words tactician. Your mask protects your identity, but your actions can make any superficial effort null and void. Don't do anything that will give you away._

 **M:** I'll give it my best shot.

The Emperor was annoyed. He had obviously not planned for these events to go in this manner.

He said, "I can reassure you that these men mean well. They've agreed to help me avoid this civil war. Surely you people would be agreeable to preventing many unnecessary deaths?"

I replied, "Well y'a-"

 **M:** Oh crap!

 _ **A:** Kill your accent you idiot! Nobody on this planet speaks like that!_

Off the corner of my eye, I saw Ephidel crack a small smile. He was glaring directly at me, and I knew I had just made a misstep.

He said, "What's wrong tactician? Do you have a stutter...or perhaps you stopped yourself? If the latter is the case...then that would suggest your trying to hide something from the most powerful person in the land."

I began to jumble my words around. It was clear I had overestimated my ability to perform under scrutiny.

I replied, "W-Well I-I..."

Luckily, this had a pleasant unintended effect.

The Emperor waved his hand dismissively.

He said, "I don't mind the tactician's stuttering problem. What is valuable to me is his ability to lead an army. Tell me...are you familiar with urban warfare?"

 **M:** But I don't have a stuttering problem...

 _ **A:** Go with it. If I learned one thing from my time in Fibernia, it's that one man's mistake is another's lifeline. Take advantage of it, and exploit it. That's the art of realpolitik._

 **M:** You give surprisingly good advice.

 _ **A:** I'm doing this because right now our interests align. I will not hesitate to destroy you when I get a chance._

 **M:** Right...

I replied, "The largest population center I've fought in was a village...wait we haven't agreed to anything! I demand you let us go and return to our home countries!"

Something may have possessed me at that moment. It may have been a mixture of Azazel's advice and my friend's presence, but I felt moved enough to join Raven near the front. Thinking about it some more, it may have been Azazel discreetly implanting a false sense of confidence in my brain. Regardless of the cause, my gesture caused the monarch to lean back on his chair.

He replied, "Even after my attendants nursed you back to health...you still insist on being so brazen."

I shot back, "Some decent healthcare does not equal assistance in a war! Saving my life affects one life, while a war affects everyone in the city! Surely you can do some basic mathematics your highness."

I was at the top of my game. It felt like nothing could shoot me down right now. I wasn't going to let some 8th-century blue blood take advantage of me!

"Mark watch out!"

Suddenly, Jaffar dashed his way towards me. I turned just in time to parry a blow aimed at my neck. My dagger, which was made of Lycian low-alloy steel, easily weathered the attack.

My arm, however, could not say the same. It took the full force of the fit man and popped out of its socket. The amount of force was surreal and was almost inhuman. Almost.

 _Agh! A critical blow! I'm not sure what type of die he's playing with, but he needs to be dealt with immediately!_

Shifting my blade to my non-dominant hand, I faced him again. Behind him, Lumina had her bow aimed for the man's head. Simon and Raven were similarly at the ready.

The already thick tension in the air just got thicker. The conflict was imminent, and although we outnumbered the fangsmen 4 to 2, I had a feeling these men were way stronger than we put together. I feared not even Azazel's fury would be able to counter them.

But right when we were about to begin pitched combat, a voice of reason broke through the silence.

The Emperor exclaimed, "Stop! I will not allow bloodshed in my throne room! Everyone put down their weapons!"

 _There's no way they'll listen to him right? We're right in the palm of their hand. They could stain this floor red if they wanted to._

Immediately, Jaffar dropped his dagger onto the ground. Likewise, Ephidel's thunder tome landed on the floor.

 _ **A:** __Guess they would._

At first, we hesitated. But, not wanting to push the envelope any further, I dropped my red-hilted dagger. Noticing my act, the others followed suit.

We had avoided a direct confrontation, for now.

The Emperor placed his palm onto his forehead. His annoyance has morphed into a crude distaste for us.

He said, "Okay, I see you're a direct man tactician. Let me say this in a language that you will understand. You've never had a choice in this matter. Refuse to help me, and I'll arrange for you to rot in the salt mines for eternity. Take it or leave it, I can probably secure my power with the Fang's help alone. Choose your answer wisely."

That development...took me completely off guard. I didn't think the monarch would resort such methods to secure my help, but I realize now that we're both playing different games of power. We both deal with issues in leadership, however, his problems are amplified hundredfold due to the sheer population. It was clear he was desperate to overcome an obstacle to his power, even morally dubious ones.

We felt like we were backed into a corner. We had three options. Go back to the mines, submit and help him, or attempt to fight our way out of this forsaken city. The first option was never on the table, and the third was impractical due to the severity of Oltorf pass along with the countless soldiers inhabiting the city. We had no choice.

I had to make a deal with a second devil. One that was completely in the flesh.

I bowed my head down but didn't let my lower body touch the floor. Reading the emotions of my friends, it was clear what their decision was. All I had to do was put it into words.

I said, "I will not bow down to you...but I will serve you with the best of my ability. Your enemies are my enemies. My lance is your lance. I place myself under a contract to help you with this task until it is fulfilled. So help me God."

I held back tears as I swore my oath to him. I had already sworn fealty to a certain woman in Caelin, and her memory was entrenched in my mind as I did so. Simon placed his hand on my shoulder as he followed suit. Lumina did so as well, although Raven preferred to be separated from the group.

The Emperor smiled as he observed giving our oaths. Everything was going according to plan.

He ordered everybody to leave his presence and prepare for his birthday ball tomorrow. They would discuss strategy the morning after, with the ball acting as a brief relief prior to the main fighting. He would enjoy himself tomorrow, now that he was comfortable that he had secured the most battle-proven tactician in all of Elibe.

He would rest easy tonight. Now, his victory was all but assured.

* * *

 **The Next Day...**

Carvel's white robe shone brilliantly under the hot sun. It had a stripe of purple wrapped around his right arm, along with unrivaled comfort. With any ordinary man, this would have been quite the outfit.

However, all it did was make Carvel feel uncomfortable. It was an heirloom from his father, a symbol of his rank among the citizens. The outfit made him feel unapproachable by any commoner, especially his wife. He felt like if she were to ever catch a glimpse of him wearing this than she might feel compelled to leave him on the spot. That was something to be avoided at all costs.

As much as he hated wearing this thing, it was the appropriate outfit for what he was attending today. The Emperor's birthday ball. It was a rare day of festivities where all the nobles let loose, and alcohol flowed freely. The debauchery that was going to happen today made him feel sick to the stomach. Today was the only day that the Emperor (surrounded by his closest confidants of course) will allow himself to get drunk among his peers. It wasn't a sight that he was going to look forward to seeing, and he planned to take his leave at the first socially-acceptable opportunity.

But something didn't sit right with him

The Emperor was blissfully unaware of all the revolutionaries that were to be in attendance. Although his own monarchists and the outsider fascists will make up about 60% of his attendants, a sizeable portion will be made up of socialists, syndicalists, and anarchists. If someone truly desired to, one could strike at the Emperor here. Of course, they'd have to get through the armed security detail first, but the possibility was still in the air.

Carvel had to admit, the monarch was a tyrant that would likely never allow democracy in his country. But his survival is vital if a bloodless power transition were to occur. If the Emperor was to be slain since he has no direct descendants the country would likely devolve into civil war. In that scenario, the monarchist faction would be split in what noble to appoint as the new emperor, the fascists would be as well, and the others would simply rebel due to the emperor's absence. The country would become hopelessly fractured, and the following civil war devastating. At that point, the democracists would be the largest undivided faction, and it would be a fight they could surely win. But did the ends justify the means?

Carvel didn't think so. That scenario had to be avoided at all costs. He valued the lives of the civilians above all else, and if he could take power without shedding any blood then he would. There were some people in his faction that didn't feel that way, but they were a minority.

He entered through the castle's front gate. Although he wanted to enter as soon as possible, that simply was not the case. All around, lower-ranking officers recognized him and saluted en-masse, even though the lieutenant colonel wasn't wearing a military uniform. He was too embarrassed to scold them, although he was certain he would do so at the next working day.

After about a half hour of formalities, he finally made his way to the ballroom. About 50 nobles and military officials were in attendance at a 5 o'clock Saturday evening. Most were in their early twenties to early thirties. Some had a preference for beer, others preferred fine wine. But all were ready to begin the festivities.

Carvel was everything from an acquaintance to a bitter enemy to these people. The fascists hated him, the socialists were indifferent, monarchists thought he was one of them, and the anarchists would probably shoot him on the spot. Truly a colorful variety of emotions inhabited this room.

It was a few minutes until the Emperor addressed his guests, and so he took a seat by a depressed looking group of unfamiliar faces. They looked like they wouldn't pester him with questions, so it was the perfect fit.

He greeted everybody by shaking their hands. One was a purple robed, black-haired man with a mask. He spoke with a very quantitative style, one he mostly associated with the engineers that designed Carazan's roads. He introduced himself as Mark.

There was also a red-haired mercenary that was a silent type. He simply shook his hand and said nothing. Carvel considered silence a virtue, but even this may be a bit too much. His name was Raven.

To his right, there was a gray-haired knightly character. Out of everyone there, he seemed the only one trying to make light of a bad situation. Carvel noted him for being a trustworthy character. His name was Simon.

Finally, to his surprise, sitting next to the black-haired man was a woman. She had white hair that was neatly wrapped up into a ponytail, with an archer's outfit. Although it isn't common for women to attend these parties, it also wasn't unheard of. He noted her strong personality, along with her name, Lumina.

After the initial greetings, the table fell into a pleasant conversation. Carvel did end up receiving some questions, but luckily they weren't anything too impossible. He could even consider them pleasant.

He discovered that the group was none other than a group of adventurers obtained by the Emperor. Mark is a world-renowned tactician whose deeds are known far and wide. Raven and Simon are professional mercenaries, while Lumina is a supposed sibling of Mark's. That last bit of information confused him, as the two looked nothing alike. He just dismissed it to wacky genetics.

The tactician's arm appeared to be out of place. Upon closer inspection, he realized it had popped out of its socket.

 _He must be under a lot of pain right now. I can probably fix that for him._

He asked, "Hey Mark, did you pop your arm out of its socket? I can put it back if you'd like."

Mark clapped his hands together, forming a praying gesture. He gave a teary-eyed smile.

He replied, "Please...it hurts so much."

Mark's friends watched suspiciously as he tended to his injury. Although Raven looked aloof and Simon only had a tiny bit of concern, he felt like Lumina would pounce on him if she sensed even a hint of malicious intent.

POP!

Success. Carvel has done this many times before and had gotten pretty proficient at it. The tactician's face beamed as he regained control of his limb.

He said, "Thank you! You're a lifesaver!"

He replied, "Anytime friend."

Soon after, a familiar blue-haired maid arrived to give the table some drinks. They gave each other looks of acknowledgment as she left. He ordered some water, and to his mild surprise, so did the rest of the table.

He asked Simon, "Why choose water? Surely a big man like you can handle your own alcohol?"

Simon downed half of the glass in one gulp.

He replied, "My culture is observing an important holiday today. We mustn't consume any recreational beverages until the dawn of tomorrow. As for my friends...they have their own reasons."

Carvel's gaze shifted to the other three. No point asking Raven; he was blissfully looking off into space. That only left the other two.

He asked, "Er...Mark and Lumina how about yourselves? Surely you two must have some cultural reasons as well?"

Mark replied, "For the same reason as you Carvel. Surely we must be feeling the same thing...right?"

Carvel's eyes widened. He had not expected that assessment from the tactician.

He said, "What do you mean?"

Mark looked out into the crowd of statesmen that were gleefully chatting with their peers. They were all oblivious to the sinister undertones of this party.

Mark replied, "Don't you find it a bit off-putting that today the Emperor is putting himself in a vulnerable position around a bunch of suspected revolutionaries? They may make up a minority, but this seems like a recipe for disaster. You felt it as well right? That's why you chose to sit with a bunch of strangers rather than your own countrymen. Assuming everyone is associating with people in their own factions, that would suggest your part of a faction that hasn't infiltrated the upper echelons yet. A faction like the socialists or anarchists...no. The democracists would be more likely."

Carvel nearly spat out the water he was drinking.

 _Drat! How did he make that conclusion with those two minor details! I'm done for!_

 _No...he still doesn't have any concrete evidence. I can save myself from this._

It was like the two were playing a game of poker. One must not reveal their hand in order to win. Carvel hasn't folded yet.

Carvel replied, "I'd never associate with those criminals."

The two players read the other's movements. The battle could go either way.

Mark replied, "Then why did you get water? You know that if something happens then it would be easier to get away sober."

Carvel's defenses were crumbling. Swift action was needed.

He said, "I would never run away from my liege. My family has been giving him fealty for centuries now."

Ignoring his earlier comment, Mark delivered the final blow.

Mark said, "You gave that maid a weird look earlier. Is she your agent? Perhaps you're the leader of the democracist...or at least a higher up."

This time Carvel did spit his beverage out onto the had just played his royal flush, and Carvel was defenseless.

All there was to do was concede defeat.

Sweat began dropping down Carvel's forehead. The sleeping hornet's nest was at the cusp of being awoken.

He lowered his voice to make sure no one could eavesdrop.

He said, "So what if I am? What are you going to do...turn me in? They'll kill me...but someone else will just take my place. You can kill a person...but you can't kill an idea."

Mark had a devilish smile on his face. The expression terrified him.

He said, "You see...you and I both know that a civil war will rock this country very soon. I don't know when, but I don't want to be here when it happens. Arrange for a vessel to smuggle us out of the country, and your secret is safe with me. I do not wish to be the Emperor's dog any longer."

The tactician's offer was captivating. Getting the group out of the country would rob the Emperor of a cunning mind, and would even out the scales of war. Carvel has everything to gain from this arrangement.

But doing so would be difficult. He'd have to somehow get around the group's security detail...which might be possible if he were to abuse his powers as a senior officer. After ridding himself of the soldiers, he could have an agent escort them to a boat bound for a foreign port. This plan was very much in the realm of possibility.

He said, "I accept your offer. Just all-"

Suddenly, a blood-curdling scream erupted through the ballroom.

"BOMB! THERE'S A BOMB!"

Time slowed down. He eyed a mysterious figure disappear out through a window.

Carvel exclaimed, "Everybody get down!"

Raven flipped the table over just as Simon tackled Lumina and Mark to the ground. Carvel didn't have a second to spare when he took shelter behind the table.

A massive explosion ruptured from an unknown location. The sheer heat generated from the fireball was able to melt silver. The large windows that adorned the walls were blown out by debris.

Carvel was lifted into the air and landed flat on his back. Unable to breathe, thick smoke began to fill the ballroom.

Around him, painful screams littered his eardrums. The unforgettable stench of burning flesh nearly caused him to hurl. He was at the brink of losing consciousness.

A friendly hand lifted him up into the air. Placing his bloodied body on its back, it began walking away from the scene.

At the corner of his eye, he spotted Raven dragging the unconscious bodies of Lumina and Mark. He soon realized who had picked him up, the knight Simon.

Simon said quietly, "It's okay Carvel. We'll get out of here just fine."

With those words of comfort, he drifted into black nothingness. He wondered what became of his agent, but all he could do was pray for her safety...

* * *

Elred woke up from his brief bout of unconsciousness. Unable to comprehend what was going around him, he immediately reached out for his chief retainer. He had been sitting right next to him...before the blast.

Elred gasped. He realized now that the retainer has shielded him from the blast with his body. There was nothing of him left, all that remained where some stray strands of cloth from his vaporized body.

Elred couldn't believe what he was seeing. Mounds of dead laid before him, some of whom were just entertaining him earlier. A pitch black eyeball was looking directly at him as if judging his very soul.

It took another moment for him to realize that he was in pain. The alcohol had numbed some of it, but now he was aware of its presence. The burns weren't serious, but they still needed to be tended to. He realized he needed to get help.

He needed to get out of here.

Heaving his body up, he fell onto the ground. The mixture of his injuries and the booze had made him unable to walk. If he was to get out of here...he would require assistance.

"Milord. Do you allow me to help you?"

He turned his head and saw who the voice came from. It was a blue-haired maid, one of the many staff members that helped orchestrate this ball.

He replied, "Please..."

Elred was surprised by the petite woman's strength. She effortlessly lifted him up and placed his arm around her shoulder. Together, they hobbled their way out of the ballroom.

The maid said, "Your highness, the castle is under attack. Please allow me to transport you to the safe room."

Elred drunkingly agreed. Had he been sober, he might have realized that the maid was lying. The terrorist attack was isolated at the ballroom.

Elred asked, "What's your name miss?"

The maid's smiled. This was the first time the Emperor had asked for her name.

It would be the last name he would ever hear.

She replied, "Aquila..."

* * *

Aquila made her way down to the castle's dungeon, and fortunately, no one had seen her leave with the Emperor. With nothing but torchlight, she weaved through the dungeon's winding corridors. It was hard to breathe, more so for the monarch who was hobbling in her shoulder. Regardless, she pressed on. She had carried heavier objects down here at her own power, and she would be damned if she were to stop now.

The earlier explosion had almost put a damper on her plans. Somebody had tried to assassinate the Emperor on their own accord...it was probably one of the anarchists in attendance. No other faction had been so adamant about removing the Emperor but them, it was the only conclusion Aquila could draw. Fortunately for her, not only had been left unscathed by the would-be-assassin's shoddy explosive, but it had also wiped out the entirety of the Emperor's security detail. She had intended to seduce the monarch initially then lead the drunk man down here, but the present opportunity was just too good to pass up. One could call it fate.

The blue-haired maid had to hold back the temptation to giggle. They were almost there now, and she couldn't raise any red flags now. The Emperor may not be a military man, but even he could easily overpower a small woman like her. It would be at the comfort of the "safe room" where she would have complete control. Control over the man that had taken so much from her.

The Emperor groaned as he groggily slid through the "safe room" door. He was so delirious from the booze and lack of air that he didn't notice that he was now several hundreds of meters below ground. All his inept mind could do was process the sofa that had appeared in front of him, and slithered onto its leather. Oblivious to his impending doom, he fell fast asleep.

Aquila started laughing. Then again. And again. And again. The intensity of her enjoyment intensified with each passing second, although it was barely audible due to the lack of air it could pass through. With a renewed confidence, she went over to her special corner.

The materials were still there. Her mace, the chisel, the mortar, and the bricks. Everything she needed was still here.

After a few minutes of hard labor, she successfully hauled everything to the front door. Taking the mace, she destroyed the ancient door with a single swing.

WHACK!

Wood fragments littered the floor. Shrapnel flew everywhere, some of which got onto Aquila's uniform. The maid watched with distaste as one of the pieces flew directly for the Emperor's head.

The force was enough for him to awaken from his slumber. At first, he was hit with an immense sense of brain fog, but his eyes widened as he realized where he was.

His gaze shifted towards the maid holding a large mace. Below her feet was enough of bricks to build a wall.

A wall that could trap him in.

His expression became one of absolute anger.

He said, "Aquila! What is the meaning of this!"

Without saying a word, she walked over the shattered door and closer to him. With no sense of hesitation, she swung her weapon at her liege, destroying his ribcage.

He screamed, "Agh!"

He fell onto the floor clutching his wound. Blood fell from his mouth, and he began to choke on his own fluids.

He pleaded, "W-Why?"

Looking up at his assassin again her expression morphed from one of distaste to one of absolute malice. Her bangs were clear from her eyes, revealing two undiluted pupils. Below them were two black spots of dust, likely from the surrounding air. Her right eye twitched as her sanity began to dissipate like the morning dew. Her usual Cinnabon roll of a face had transformed into one resembling a devil.

She said, "August 24th, 986. That was the day you sent your troops to the Kalma block in South Carazan. Are you aware of what happened there?"

Elred's head went blank. That was the first year of his reign, along with being a troubling time. It was a year of great unrest, a time where everyone wanted to test the resolve of the new monarch. He responded to the defiance violently, and put down all of the rebellions. There were so many, he had forgotten how many time he had to send the military out on raiding parties.

He replied, "I'm sorry...I do-"

He was rewarded with a swift kick to the groin. Wincing in pain, more blood expelled from his mouth.

Aquila said, "Then I'll remind you. On that day you sent a battalion full of your best soldier into that heavily populated area. It was rumored that rebellious cells inhabited the area, so your troops went door to door arresting suspected rebels. But the community didn't take a liking to that. Fighting soon broke out, and one of your troops knocked over a lantern full of active fuel. The following inferno killed many people, and it took months for the embers to be put out."

Elred replied, "So what? Rebels don't deserve a part of this country."

Aquila shot back, "You swine! My parents had nothing to do with the rebellion! Neither did my twin sister...but the fire killed them nethertheless. We begged for help for days...but it never came. My family died when they choked under the thick smoke...and I would have died to if it were not for the actions of a certain man. I owe that man my life...but you owe me something, Emperor."

Elred said, "The simple fact you were under my employ should've been enough f-"

Aquila said, "NO! It's royalty like you that are the problem with this country. Every day you live in luxury while the rest of us bask under the shadow of our false gods. But no more! You represent the last of your line, and today I will receive my revenge. You will die the same way my family did, gasping for air, and waiting for help that will never come! Your death will be long and painful...as it should be. If you truly are a god...then save yourself!"

Aquila then ran up to the tyrant and delivered a swift kick to his head. Elred's head was thrown against the edge of his sofa, and he went out cold.

At this moment Aquila could hear the echoes of her ancestors calling out to her. She pushed that thought far into the basement of her mind. It was simply hallucinations, ones that come due to the prolonged lack of oxygen.

She didn't have much time. She had to get to work now if she didn't want to share a grave with the Emperor. Thus, she got her tools and began placing the blocks flush with the former door frame. Her father was a mason, and he made a great effort to make sure his trade knowledge was passed down to daddy's little girl...

* * *

I said, "Man...it wasn't even a day ago when I went out cold...this sucks."

Lumina shook her head. Her arm was wrapped in a body cast.

She said, "Well at least last time you just had mana deprivation. That explosion both gave us concussions."

I groaned and rubbed the backside of my head. There was a bandage wrapped around my forehead.

I said, "What is this...like the eighth concussion I've had in the last year? Those tonics help my brain heal, but I can't help but think I'm gradually losing memories from my old life in the process. This life just isn't for me Lumina."

Lumina and I were at a makeshift hospital ward setup at the castle's cafeteria. Dozens or so wounded was laying in cots all around us, but luckily most have stabilized conditions. Although some were still on the cusp of death, the blast had killed about 15 and injured another 20. It was a depressing situation, but we owed the quick wits of Simon and Raven for our lives.

A familiar blue-haired maid made her way to our beds. She changed our bandages and questioned us about how we were feeling. She appeared to be in a good mood herself, and she had a playful whistle as she tended to her duties. It was a bit unusual, considering that the Emperor had been missing for several hours. But I paid it no mind. I figured that this may be her way of dealing with the trauma.

I said, "I really appreciate your help m'am. Do I have the pleasure of knowing your name?"

She replied, "Oh? My name is Aquila, daughter of Henry the Mason. Pleased to meet you...er…"

Lumina said, "That would be Mark. My name is Lumina."

Aquila raised her brow as if she was thinking about something. Whatever hidden thought she had come to her quickly.

She came up close to me and placed her hand over my ear.

She whispered, "I'm a member of the Democracist faction. Carvel requests your presence at his estate. It's regarding a promise he made to you."

I said, "Understood...but wait. Since the Emperor is gone can't we just leave on our own accord now?"

Aquila shook her head, "I'm afraid not. The fascists have already made moves to take over the port. They plan on taking over the government and putting the city under martial law. They're infinitely more brutal than the Emperor ever was. I'm sorry, but if you're going to return home, then we may have to ask for some of your help."

Aquila then left us and went to attend to more patients. Despite the fact she may be out of a job soon, she still felt compelled to help the wounded. That was a virtue I greatly admired in her.

She disappeared into the sea of humanity...leaving me lost to my thoughts

I looked like I was going to have to play by this city's games for just a little bit longer.


	27. Addendum 1

**Addendum 1**

 **By SodiumChloride12**

* * *

 **Alright, before I say anything yes...I know that addendums usually go at the end of a series or novel. But I couldn't think of any other word that would suit what this "addendum" would be used for. This..."addendum" (which I won't put on quotation marks from now on) is my way in "talking" to you readers about my thoughts on the vision I have for this story. My hope about this is that I'll be using these addendums to provide additional information to the main storyline. This won't be in the standard first-person narrative however...everything will be directly articulated by me. I've been wanting to write one of these for a while. If you want to go ahead and skip over to the remainder of the story, feel free and do so. If you want some more insight into my interpretation of the world of Elibe along with its inhabitants, spend a few minutes reading over this. It won't be long...and won't be any longer than 1000 words.  
**

 **First off, I want to go ahead and dwell on my vision of the story. While in other fanfictions you may see an OP Gary Stu/Mary Su one shotting powerful enemies into Mars while they remain unharmed, I try to refrain from such actions here. I find such characters best left towards comedies like Kenja No Mago (Wise Man's Grandchild). My whole problem with the Gary Stu character is that in my humble opinion, the main character cannot grow without struggle. It is only through struggle that the inner strength of man can be unlocked, but if a character finds no reason to struggle, then does he grow at all? This was a problem I faced earlier in the story with Samuel, a character whose near limitless magical power seemingly allowed him to defeat any enemy he wanted. That was the direction the story was going by the time of the final battle with Lundgren...and I realized I needed to make some changes. Samuel hadn't been isekai'd into a world to not grow after all...in actuality being transported to this world was supposed to be his punishment. So, I decided to nerf him after the final battle...and this was when I realized the true direction I wanted to move in the story.**

 **I realized that most fanfiction about Mark never really explored the story from a realistic approach. The land of Elibe is loosely based on medieval Europe; a land that was infested with evils such as war, death, and sexual violence. Although Fire Emblem is a romantic portrayal of those times, by the time I began writing Exile I had already come to my decision. The story of Samuel will not be one of sunshine and rainbows...one where all his wishes were granted to him like in his pampered life in the modern United States. Rather...Samuel will have to partake in an unbearable struggle to live his life the way he wants to. I took a lot of inspiration for this approach from RE: Zero, an anime/manga/LN that has the main character going through enormous mental anguish. Although Samuel is not a Subaru, perhaps in an alternate reality they could come to terms.**

 **Lyn was an interesting character for me to write. I had the source material that helped me a lot...but I struggled a bit to realistically put her and Samuel together. Ultimately, Lyn fell for the young tactician off of his sharp wit, selfless attitude, and similar circumstances they shared. Both characters sympathized over the lack of parental figures, and both trusted each other with their lives. Lyn took Samuel along on hunting trips even though she knew that the young man was clueless in such deeds...if nothing else than to laugh at his ignorance. Lyn admires Samuel's unique perspective of her gender...one that he judged as his equal, and mind that most people in those times inhibited sexist attitudes. Samuel's intellectual banter intrigued the young princess...even though she's illiterate. Samuel's intriguing qualities were enough to garner attention from Lyn...and Lyn's emotional support (at a time that he had none) was enough for him to reciprocate.**

 **But as time goes on that might change. Samuel's personality is changing...and we'll see how she reacts.**

 **Barthillas and Yanden are direct requests from a couple of friends of mine. The two are polar opposites of each other when it comes to personality, but their existence will prove to become vital in Samuel's story. It's a bit ironic...I had originally intended for these characters to remain exclusive with the Rawmarsh arc, but I found needing them a bit more. What do y'all think of these characters? Feel free to contact me if y'all have any concerns.**

 **Alright, time for general scope. I intend for this entire project to total for about 1 million words. In terms of word count, The Son of Mind and Bane will consist of about 40% of that total. I'll save the other numbers so I don't spoil anything else...but when its all said and done I probably won't be done until about a month I graduate from college. Unfortunately, I won't be able to upload any more frequently than once a week; for about 6500 words a chapter. This is due to the fact that I'm a busy man that has a full-time job along with going to engineering school (which is no joke). In addition, I'm still young so sometimes I'll feel the need to go to some parties...or go to football games. Please bear with me...any feedback really helps me out long term.**

 **I really want to have an interactive relationship with my audience. There's about 30+ of you, and that number is growing by the week. The FE7 fanfiction community is fairly small...so I ultimately want to make a product that everyone can enjoy. That makes me a bit of an idealist...but I'm willing to implement any and all ideas that y'all recommend to me.**

 **Finally, consider my pen your pen. In my view, this is** **_our_** **story to enjoy. A celebration to a game that was released 16 years ago. A game that introduced me to my favorite video game series of all time.**

 **To all still reading this addendum, y'all have my thanks. From this writer in the southwest, I hope y'all enjoy the rest of my work.**


	28. Battle for Port Balboa

**Chapter 24: Battle for Port Balboa**

 **By SodiumChlouride12, derived from Fire Emblem, owned by Nintendo.**

 **A/N: We humans are social creatures. Find yourself some good friends with similar interests and spend the holiday with them. We're only alive for so long, so don't waste it.**

 **N: A battle brews. The young tactician will have to participate in some "on-the-job training."**

* * *

A large gathering of people laid before me. With their eyes resembling the glimmer of starlight, they humbly waited for me to recount my story.

I dramatically waved my hand through the air, having come to a full circle before I began my recantation.

After waiting a moment to allow my audience to settle down, I began to describe a story; one that was all but too real to a person such as myself.

I said, "Once upon a time, there was a prince who was set to inherit a land larger than even Etruria himself. He was a man of great character who saw the rules of nobility as restricting. Thus, he married a woman not befitting of his status...but that's a tale for another time..."

I continued, "But his country was in turmoil. With a delicate political situation around him, he sought to visit a province that was rebellious towards the crown. He meant this not as a move of tyranny, but of one of goodwill to the people. But he could not have chosen a worse day. The day he arrived to the provincial capital was on the anniversary of that people's worst defeat. Some saw it as an utter slap to the face, so hidden forces began to plan for the prince's death."

One of the listeners, a private named Joachim, raised his hand.

He asked, "Did they kill him?"

I shooed his remark away dismissively.

I said, "I'm getting to that. The prince went as planned, and was the center of a huge parade taking place near the city square. Everything was going well, the prince and his wife were having fun. But they could not be anymore oblivious to what was about to happen. Suddenly, a mage appeared before their carriage, and he let loose a fire spell directly towards the monarch."

I clapped my hands together...mimicking a gunshot. Some of the more lighthearted folks jumped from the seats.

I said, "A fireball erupted through the city square! Dozens of soldiers and parade goers were injured. The guards tackled the man to the ground, only to find out that he had already taken his own life a moment before. But as for the prince..."

I have an optimistic thumbs up.

I said, "The spell completely missed him by several feet! After the attack, the officials of the town beckoned him to a safe location, but he wouldn't have it. He wanted to show that he cared for these people, and so he decided to visit a hospital where all the injured were taken. And thus he returned to his carriage and took to the streets. Unfortunately, the coach wasn't familiar with the town's layout, and he ended up taking a wrong turn. Trying to steer the vehicle in the right direction, the horses stopped momentarily in front of a sandwich shop. Can you guess who was eating at the sandwich shop?"

Raven rolled his eyes. He had heard enough.

He said, "Enough with your fairy tales tactician. You're obviously going to sa-"

SMACK!

Raven's head fell forward as Lumina's hand impacted it. Her face was red with anger, the crowning jewel of a pissed off manakete.

She said, "Raven! Shut up!"

He immediately turned back towards her. His face was equally as angry. A vein just above his forehead seemed to be at the cusp of bursting. He balled up his fists.

He said, "Why you stupid b-"

Simon lunged himself in between the two. Using his knightly strength, he managed to keep the duo away from each other.

He said, "Now now...no need to get feisty."

In unison, they replied, "Stay out of this Simon!"

Meanwhile, perched on my chair above the audience, my cheeks went red with embarrassment. I was sweating bullets and hoped my friends wouldn't make this situation any worse.

It was like the Illian Knight was in between a rock and a hard place.

He said, "I'm just trying to help guys!"

After a while, the two steam heads calmed down and I was able to continue my story. It was a good thing too, I was starting to get on the good part.

I said, "Erm...yeah. So one of the assassins, upset of his failure of a day, decided to make himself feel better by eating at a local restaurant. As if by fate, just as his tastebuds sensed the tomatoes in his meal, he spotted the prince...immobile...and oblivious to his environment. He dropped his sandwich and charged through the restaurant door. Tome in hand, he let fly an inferno that engulfed the prince and his wife. The assassin fled, and the prince and his wife died to their injuries soon after."

Aquila raised her hand. She was sitting nearby, having substituted her maid outfit for military garb.

She asked, "What of the prince's country? Surely his father would have been enraged of having his son die at the hands of some terrorist."

I replied, "Well you'd be right Aquila. The king had troops on standby to retaliate against the province, but the provincial leaders called out to a cultural ally for help. That cultural ally accepted, and due to a complicated web of alliances established before this assassination, the world was engulfed in war. Millions of people died...millions more suffered. Some countries were wiped off the face of the earth. Perhaps if the assassin had any idea of the Pandora's box he opened to the world, maybe he would have finished his sandwich. But I digress, the moral of the story is that all it can take is the actions of one man to change the course of history."

The maid frowned when I finished the story. Something about her mannerisms was...off. I didn't exactly give a happy ending to my story...so perhaps this was to be expected.

We were at Carvel's house. It was a grand manor perched on a hill. A tall, iron spiked fence surrounded the property. The gates were even taller, with the Nobel's family crest emphasized around the black bars. The inside was easily as lavish, with paintings of his family's ancestor adorning the walls. Long winding staircases divided its stories, with the lieutenant colonel seemingly being the only person aware of where all of them went. We were gathered at the noble's war room, a quaint dwelling with books, maps, and even a chimney. Messengers were regularly coming in and out, giving us constant info of the regular happenings in town.

Carvel walked through the door. His arms were full with a large assortment of letters, statistics, and other paperwork. A gust of wind flowed through the open window, sending his goods through the air.

He said, "Guys! Help me! We have to act quickly if we're going to untie this noose!"

Groaning, everybody stood up and returned to their work. The military man spoke the truth. Our faction managed to secure a moderately sized perimeter; about 10 square miles in diameter. On top of that, Carvel had managed to secure an armory in the beginning hours of war...granting us some weaponry we so desperately needed. Food was currently being supplied by the local granary, but it was finite and we knew it. We were landlocked, and we were on a time limit. Whoever had control of the port would ultimately win off of attrition alone.

It felt like an anchor to any future plans the democracists had in mind. Although the winner of this civil war would have to control the palace (currently held by disjointed monarchists) along with a few more important buildings, all future offenses will have to be diverted to the port. It's a simple problem of logistics, but as a famous French tactician once said, an army marches on its stomach.

Carvel showed me to the main battle map on the central table. It was a detailed thing, with complex illustrations of the geography, the faction boundary lines, and little props representing hypothetical forces the enemy had. Upon closer inspection, I grew to understand our situation a bit more.

In addition to our perimeter (in the northeast), we also had some isolated pockets of sympathizers the library and some residential areas. In the northwest, the socialist faction had control of the major manufacturing centers. Out by farmland in the southwest, the anarchists found friends in some disgruntled farmers. The monarchists had control of the palace along with the military command center in the middle of town. Most of the south had been taken by independent forces, some of which numbered no more than 100 men. The port and the entire coast was being occupied by the fascists.

I bit my lip. I had never been particularly experienced when it came to _Grande Battleplan_ type warfare. At most, any "experience" came from the 1000 hours I have clocked in on modded Heart of Iron IV. Hours and hours of my life spent behind a computer screen, leading virtual soldiers to their despair and demise. Although the setting and technology are different, maybe some general concepts would still work here.

I looked over at the clay soldiers standing on our territory. We had about five regiments under our command, with each sporting about 5000 souls. They were spread evenly around the perimeter of our territory, ready to dispel any attack. There were some weird props that I didn't recognize on the other territories.

I asked Carvel, "Hey, what do those mean?"

Carvel laid down the paperwork he was signing and looked over at the map.

He replied, "Well...that castle over there represents a fortress...that hat represents known mages...that bow means archers...the rest is self-explained. There's a fort blocking our path to the port...and unfortunately due to the monarchists below is we can't go around it. Any transgressions on that piece of territory will have to be fought through that structure...which I highly recommend against. As you can see, the fascists have control of about 15,000 soldiers."

Simon's head swung over to us.

He exclaimed, "15,000?!"

Carvel nodded silently. He ruffled his hair as if to hide his anxiety.

I looked back towards the map. Due to the fascists' military support, they were able to mobilize the majority of their troops in the beginning hours. Given time, they'd be able to muster 20,000. Meanwhile, we'd only be able to command 10,000 troops with our population pool. They had a better position, better troops, and more of them as well. There was no way around it, this war just had the word "defeat" spelled all around it. Heck...they could even take us out right now if they wanted to.

But why didn't they? The right tactical move would be to knock us out immediately and then circle around the monarchist faction like a boa constrictor. With everybody fighting for themselves, the divide and conquer strategy would greatly benefit here. It just didn't make sense. Allowing us and the other factions time to mobilize more troops would only lead to unnecessary suffering for both sides.

But then it hit me. It all made sense now.

Those two men...Ephidel and Jaffar. Do they have ties to the fascists? How about influence? Assuming both of those statements were true, then it would be in the Fang's (and by extension Nergal's) best interest to create as many deaths as possible. They'd allow us to kill each other while they'd collect the quintessence afterward, all while not lifting a finger.

Those bastards! They were the one that set up the bomb, weren't they?! They _knew_ that killing the Emperor would ignite a civil war! That's all that man sees in this city...a factory to generate the substance he so desperately desires! Nergal intends to use this city to build an army!

My face went red with anger, and my vision as well. Unable to control myself, I swept away the battle map from the table...shocking everyone.

Simon grabbed my arm.

He said, "Mark! What has gotten into you?!"

With the very essence of wrath flowing through my veins, I ripped him off my limb.

I exclaimed, "Get off me!"

Longing to sate the fire that had so quickly engulfed me, I turned towards the only thing that could possibly relieve it. The wall.

Clenching my fist, I swung it directly towards the brick structure. My arm went through it like butter, sending out a cloud of dust. As if the dust was the coolant I so desperately desired, my head began to clear as I realized what I had done. My hand had created a clean hole through the wall, with the front half of my arm currently rubbing against insulation.

Pulling it away, I turned my gaze towards the terrified members of the command. It was a remarkable display of force, one that left a mark on my dominant hand.

A small stream of blood puddles on the floor. With adrenaline allowing me to ignore it, I glared at the others intimidatingly.

I said with a cold voice, "Everybody that isn't a major or above leave the room..."

The area stood still. There was a tense feeling in the air, and I felt like a devil among men.

Aquila stood in front of me like a pillar of defiance. Her eyes had a fire that matched mine.

She exclaimed, "You're not in charge! Carvel is!"

I shifted my glare towards her, and all confidence that she had evaporated in an instant. Her face turned white as if she had seen a ghost.

I shot back, "Get me some tea you glorified cleaning lady..."

* * *

 **A few minutes later...**

My nerves calmed as herbal green tea slid down my throat. The smooth nectar felt like aloe gel rubbing against my brain, allowing my mind to clear. I could feel my sentience drift away from my heart and towards my rationality again.

 _ **A:** I see...so this will return you to your senses no matter what._

 **M:** It's one of my few guilty pleasures. Caffeine gives me a headache...so green tea is perfect for me.

The room was empty save my friends and a few senior-level officers. There was about 10 in total. Our quartet, Carvel, the majors Aquila, Barsec, and Milo, standing lieutenant colonel Mars, and colonel Vartex. I was surprised to see Aquila in here...but it would appear she was much more than a simple maid. I knew an apology was in order in the near future.

Mars said, "So what you're suggesting is that we form an alliance with the socialist and monarchist factions if I am correct?"

I nodded my head and took another sip.

I replied, "Yes. By doing so we will have enough forces to form a three-pronged attack on the enemy's territory. Port Balboa is only providing supply from the center of their territory. If we can cut their supply lines, we should be able to encircle them. Given enough time, any army no matter how small will fall."

Carvel asked Vartex, "Colonel. Would the tactician be right in that assessment?"

The military man brought together the pieces that made up the three factions. Five for the democracists, nine for the monarchists, and four for the socialists. Eighteen thousand men in total, with a possibility of twelve thousand more down the line. He nodded.

He said, "Assuming that we can keep them on the field without losing supply then yes. However, the combined force would only be able to be suitably fed and equipped for two months. After that, we may run into some issues."

Barsec the major, said, "Well if we play our cards right we may not need two months. If our encirclements come without a hitch then they may only last a few days."

Simon stood up from his seat. It was time to address the elephant in the room.

Simon said, "But what would it take to secure this force? Surely the other factions are going to want concessions?"

The command center went into a hushed silence. The military men and women pondered what they would have to give up in order to survive. Was it even possible to work with people like these?

I said, "At first glance, it may appear that our ideals are far apart. But I took the liberty of reading their manifestos, and I think there is room for compromise."

Milo erupted from his seat. His face was red and resembled a cherry. I looked at him like an older brother would towards their annoying little sister.

He exclaimed, "Heretic! How dare you read their filth?! It betrays the very essence of our ideals!"

I replied, "Keyword on the word ideals Milo. You honestly can't expect to rule over a country of different minded individuals without compromise. That's the whole problem with Carazan, no one is willing to speak to one another. Ideals are nothing more than fantasies that we fool ourselves into following. If we discard the absolute values of our ideals, then we can come together and make something that can actually work."

Milo said, "But what abou-"

For a split second my ferocity penetrated through the peaceful membrane my green tea had created.

I shot back, "Use your head, Milo! Only a quarter of the town supports our movement. You can't just force your political system on an unreceptive population! Reality doesn't work like that!"

Milo took a step back, and then returned into his chair. I took another sip of my beverage before I could tarnish my reputation any further.

Carvel said, "You speak as if you've lived in a democracy before tactician."

I shifted my gaze towards Lumina, how raised her eyebrow. Oh...only if they knew...

I replied, "I'm simply acting in accordance with the information given to me. We must secure this alliance for our survival. Now back to their manifestos..."

I laid out a long series of papers out on the desk. Using a makeshift highlight to help make notes, I pointed out some important details in their ideals.

I said, "As you can see...the socialists simply want to secure more workers rights, but explicitly leave out their method of government. I assume it's because they themselves are unsure...some may want to install a dictator while others don't really care who's in charge just as long as their labor rights are respected. We can invite them to argue their cases under a democratic system...and pass their wanted laws at the ballot box."

Carvel placed his finger on his chin.

He said, "Interesting."

I discarded the socialists' manuscript for the monarchists'. It was in much more elaborate handwriting, and it was probably written by a noble.

I said, "Says here they favor the rule of a monarch along with his nobility. What it doesn't state is to what extent. What y'all can do is establish a House of Lords and a House of Commoners. At first, the two houses will be equal in legislative power, with the commoners outranking the Lords' house. Due to the declining population of nobility in this country...I can assume that the Lords' house will lose most of its practical power within the next century. The nobility will still exist...and democracy gets the power it needs to be relevant."

Mars asked, "But how do we ensure that the monarchists don't take back power? They'll be upset that we're taking away some of their birthrights...and what of the Emperor?"

I said, "That's where Carvel comes in. He mentioned earlier that he's a candidate for the crown..."

Carvel slammed his hand on the table.

He said, "I renounced that right a long time ago! How could I betray my friends and rule over them? That'd make me no better than Elred!"

I raised my hands defensively, "You won't be ruling them per se. In order to get the monarchists to bite, we'll be transferring all of the powers of the king over to a newly elected position called a president. The president would have their power bestowed upon them by the monarch's blessing, with the understanding that the monarch can take back the power at any moment. But the thing is...since you'll be the emperor..."

"You never would. You'll teach your kids to never take power as well. Eventually, so much time will pass that it'll become precedent and the emperor will be nothing more than a symbolic position."

Carvel leaned back on his chair. A bead of sweat traveled down his forehead. I could tell he was internally debating within his mind.

Not wanting to rush the noble in an important decision I stood from my seat to leave. Well...that was half right. I was likely the most disliked person in the room...but even bitter medicine had to be given. Besides, I was behind a few hours in sleep.

I said, "I'll leave you people to think about your decision. I'll be going to my room to take a nap. If y'all are going to form this meeting then I'd do it quickly, preferably I'd like to launch an attack this afternoon."

Mars said, "This afternoon? That only gives us several hours."

I walked to the door. Its metallic handle felt like acid against my left hand, probably due to the fact it was made of lead. I yawned.

"Time is our most precious commodity lieutenant colonel. Every passing day we lose while they gain strength. Tonight will likely be the strongest we will ever be without sufficient supply. Send a pigeon right now if you have to. I want it done."

I closed the door behind me. Everyone looked at one another bewildered in response to the tactician's abrasive nature.

Meanwhile, out of sight, I finally dropped my facade. Smiling as I madly gripped my hair, I couldn't believe what I had just pulled off.

 _ **A:** Wow. Look at you. Do that again and you might make a fine king._

 **M:** Another one of those and I think I'll melt under the heat...

Carvel sat confidently on a large table. He was alone save for the two other men sitting across from him.

One of the men was an aristocrat named Nicholas. He represented everything he hated in nobility. He was posh, arrogant, and uncaring. His clean military uniform was ironed by the best tailor in town, and it showed no blemishes (likely to his lack of experience). His hair was slicked back with lime juice, and the green in it made it resemble grass. For all his faults, he also had a reputation as a negotiator. Carvel had known this man since his first days at the academy, and they were well aquatinted.

The third was a former textile worker named Eugene. He had a large cigar hanging from his mouth, with a large (but weirdly tidy) beard. His glasses suggested that he was near-sighted, and his muscles his strength. He was a very charismatic in personality and represented one of the few senior socialist officers that had any battle experience. Carvel never had the opportunity to meet him, but he had heard nothing but good things about his character.

Eugene dug into his pocket offered two equally large cigars to his two peers. The gesture caught Carvel off guard.

Eugene said, "If we're to become friends...then let's act like one then."

Carvel recognized this as a mannerism used by the hearty northern Carazanites. Offering a cigar to someone meant that they were open to forming a friendship, and rejecting it represented the greatest insult. Carvel had never smoked before, but better his lungs die than all of his troops.

Accepting it, he lit the cancer stick and took a whiff. His mind numbed as he realized what it was...but he said nothing of its legality. He didn't even want to imagine what back alley Eugene had to go to procure this.

Eugene laughed as he observed Nicholas indulge as well. Despite the nasty reputation of the substance he was using, he still somehow made it seem graceful.

His mind was occupied with how he was going to explain this to Maria. She hadn't seen him like this since he was in university, and his red eyes would surely give his current state away. After all, there was a battle he still had to fight.

He stood and asked for his leave.

Eugene said, "Ah...going so soon? Stay here for a moment. Calm before the storm you know?"

Nicholas said, "That's probably the most intellectual thing I've heard you say today Eugene. I'm starting to see you as a decent ally."

The usual uptight noble had transformed into someone much more laidback. This development caused everyone to laugh.

With tears in his eyes, Carvel replied, "I'm sorry! I have to prepare my troops. Can't really do that here."

His two peers nodded in agreement. They seemed to preoccupied in their happiness to muster much resistance.

Eugene said, "Ah! I see! We shall indulge in merriment once we crown you your Highness! The true celebration will come after our complete victory!"

Nicholas added, "We will crown you here at the palace after we take Balboa. That I can assure."

Carvel replied, "Thank you. I know I can rely on your support. Just as you can rely on mine..."

Satisfied with their meeting, Carvel exited the building. An escort was waiting outside, and they began making their way back towards the manor. It would take some time to travel from the palace. The sun hung a quarter from the edge of the sky, suggesting it was late in the day.

The decisive battle was over the horizon. It was time to come as one and brush off this fascist yoke. The fate of this nation was in their hands.

* * *

The ocean wind flowed through my long hair. My scruffy pockets of facial hair moved with it, with the ends curling like a rolled up piece of parchment. The setting sun rapidly began to dim our makeshift battle headquarters, and the flaps struggled to stay still against the forces of nature.

Our tent was safely secured to the ground, but I felt anything by safe. To the distance, I could hear the brutal sounds of war. Soldiers were screaming at the height of their lungs, and constant explosions of dozens of mages filled the air.

The explosions felt like a barrage of firecrackers in a festival. They seeped into one's mind like cancer, disrupting any rational thought and attempt at conversation. The very ground shook with each individual blast, with specks of dirt dancing on our maps as it did so. Outside our tent, droves of wounded laid motionless or agonizing in pain around us. Impromptu nurses and doctors, many of which were nowhere near qualified to treat anything serious; were overwhelmed. Clerics would heal troops to the best of their ability, but so many had gotten injured in the meat grinder ahead that about half of our number have already passed out due to mana deprivation.

A caravan of carts was busy trying to maintain supply to our troops at the front line. On the right side...the carts were filled with water, food, and munitions. On the left, many were filled with injured and dead soldiers. One cart, in particular, was filled with so many dead corpses that the brutal stench it brought caused some of our nurses to pass out, and they had to be coerced with honeyed words to be brought back to work. Our runners also clogged the roads, some of which had already run several miles delivering messages. Despite their efforts, it could take up to half an hour for developments in the front to arrive to me, and I found myself having to read my own forces movements along with the enemies.

This was not the type of warfare I was used to. Before, all I had to do was send Florina to spy on the movements of our enemies along with bringing along any messages to me. Unfortunately, pegasi did not inhabit this part of the world, and Florina was still in Lycia. Everything was so slow and cumbersome, with our reserves having to wade through clogged roads to reinforce our troops. Mages rained down magical hellfire on our troops, creating craters that filled with blood and water as time passed. House to house fighting was frequent, and sometimes the structures would collapse with the combatants still in them. There was a bridge over a river nearby, it was the location of a major excursion between our forces. I received reports that the bridge was painted a crimson red, and the surface was so slick that our troops slipped onto the wood as they attempted to recover the fallen. What a brutal price we had to pay for a victory, but one we made nevertheless.

The amount of adversity these people were willing to stomach was breathtaking. The mental and physical scars they were enduring will take generations to forget. The immense damage to the surrounding environment wasn't something to downplay either. Intense fires filled the sky with smoke and had the wind not been blowing east, this may have posed a significant problem. I can say without any uncertainty that the force I led against Lundgren would've likely caved under this despair.

But it was all necessary. The fascists fought with a fanatical vigor that was borderline religious. They smashed into our forces like they preferred death over giving away a single inch. Our forces had begun pushing them towards the coast, but not without painting the streets red. We had taken about a 1000 casualties, while the fascists had suffered a similar amount.

Right now the battle was at a stalemate. We had taken some of the fascists' territory, going so far as to completely cut off the south from the north. However, no encirclements have been achieved as of yet. For the past hour, our forces have been dancing in a bout with death, with little change in territory. The encirclements I had so treasured in my battle plan had been stopped just before we could reach the sea.

The situation was frustrating. Holes would appear in the enemy's defenses, but by the time I ordered a unit to move in it had already closed up. If we were going to get a breakthrough in this situation, I needed to cut the time it took to relay messages. That only meant one thing.

I had to get closer. Closer than I already was right now.

I began folding up some maps when I garnered Carvel's attention.

He asked, "Mind if I ask what your planning on doing?"

I replied, "I need to get closer to the front. We aren't going nowhere if I have to wait half an hour to give out orders."

He grabbed my arm before I could walk out of the tent.

He said, "Do that and I can't guarantee your safety. We hadn't completely cleared out the area ahead of the safe zone. A sniper may find you...or worse."

I dismissed his concern and shook off his grip.

I replied, "It's fine. I'll go with Lumina, I know she'll spot any spying eyes. The fact of the matter is me being here is needlessly throwing away lives."

He added, "Throwing away lives? Here I was thinking you didn't care much for our movement."

I stopped in my tracks. I closed my eyes and thought about my first casualty, the knight Wallace. His voice when he spoke to me on his deathbed still resonated to me even now. It was a grim reminder that my actions determined the survivability of our troops. Regardless of my motives in a conflict, I will always act on my motivation to save lives.

I replied, "As long as we're working together, your troops' lives are my concern. Now if you don't mind I'll be going."

I left the tent without any further words. Lumina was on standby outside observing the carnage all around us. Although face suggested an uncaring attitude, her wild glances towards the crowd said otherwise.

I asked, "Lumina, how are the others?"

Whatever bubble she was in popped immediately. Shifting her bow on her left hand, the metallic weapon shone under the sunlight.

She replied, "Still in the rearguard securing our supply lines. It will take them some time to return."

I nodded in acknowledgment. I had sent them back there manage the flow of our supply wagons. As long as those wagons continue to arm and feed our troops, this battle will go by much easier. There was no need to create an unnecessary Stalingrad.

I said, "Lumina, I'm going to have to ask a favor of you. I'll be going closer to the front. The communication lag is too much to bear...and it's giving us a tactical disadvantage."

Lumina agreed and we began to walk away from the safe zone. As we did so, we passed by our many wounded at the hospital. The sheer amount of them astounded me, and I realized that the scale of a battle like this was unlike anything I had ever commanded before.

My eyes widened.

I stopped and my pupils were fixated on a small boy. His right hand was blown off from a direct hit due to a basic fire spell. Despite the relative weakness of the spell, it had grievous effects on his tiny body. Looking over his body, I didn't spot the blue democracist sash, gold monarchist armband, or yellow socialist headband. His scream was piercing through the air like a ballistic missile, and a nurse was quickly trying to stop the ever-growing pool of blood below him. Part of his brown hair was burnt off, and his skin was riddled with serious burns. The sight reminded me of pictures I saw in a textbook during WW2, and it brought with it a significantly disturbing aura.

This boy wasn't a combatant. He was a civilian. Someone who was caught at the wrong place at the wrong time. He had no reason to be on a battlefield, but the battlefield found him regardless.

I wasn't the only one that felt this way. I could feel Lumina's anxiety rise with mine.

She quivered, "Is...this what war really is?"

After a moment to ponder her question, I knew what I had to say.

I replied, "This isn't just war. This is _total_ war. Everybody is affected, from the lowest civilian to the swordsman in the back alley. I hadn't expected to see something like this here...but it appears even in a city tucked away in this corner of the world; war never changes."

It took us a while to muster the strength to leave the boy there. In the future, I would wonder what happened to him. Did he survive his injuries? Did he ever reunite with his family...if they hadn't died already? Is this young boy damned to a lifetime of poverty due to his disability? These were questions I would never find answered, and honesty...it was probably in my sanity's best interest that I didn't.

We left the safe zone in earnest. Keeping our heads low, we dashed across the debris-littered streets. We took cover by smoldering buildings, some of which had since collapsed. The air reeked of burning flesh and brick, and the craters in the ground made walking near impossible. Arrows lined the building walls like a pincushion, some of which had open bodies pinned. A few of the bodies still moved with life, and they called out to us as if we could possibly heal their fatal wounds. One went as far to plead for a quick end, a request I reluctantly fulfilled...

I don't want to think about what I did then. Lumina volunteered to do it, but I didn't want to damn her to a lifetime of brutal nightmares. Nightmares I was all too familiar with. I had the manakete look away as I stabbed the man through the skull...delivering my coup de grace.

Our travels got closer to the sounds of war. The explosions grew louder, and soldiers began to appear in the surrounding buildings. Recently injured men and woman were lining the sides of the road, many of which were waiting for medics or just a person to dispel some last words. Some were already on stretchers en route to the safe zone. The streets were littered with broken swords, armor, and other pieces of trash and debris.

At this point, we had reached the rearguard of our lines. I spotted someone in the that looked an officer and waved him down. He had a large, tidy beard and bloodshot eyes. His appearance reminded me of a South American dictator, and I hope he didn't act like one. We approached each other as brothers in arms...

BOOM!

The ground below me shook with a brutal vigor. The earth appeared to lift from the ground as tons and tons of dirt flew into the sky. A huge inferno filled the air, seemingly igniting the atmosphere around us. My body was thrown like a rag doll onto a nearby building, and I could feel something break within me. I tried to open my eyes to take a look of what hit me, but the sheer heat made that impossible. Billows of smoke entered my lungs, and I laid there choking for fresh air.

The sounds of battle were muffled against my eardrums. My sense of sound had greatly weakened, with everything barely passing through the high-pitched ringing. I could barely make out the sounds of men fighting for their lives.

With my last remaining strength, I aimlessly crawled on the ground. I was looking for Lumina, who was right next to me when the explosion hit us.

Through the rubble, I found a warm hand. One laden with the countless calluses associated with archery. The rest of my senses began to feel numb, with the only one still working in clarity was touch.

I held it. After a brief moment of hesitation, I felt its grip reciprocate with mine.

It was the last sensation I had before everything went black...

* * *

Ephidel looked at his fine piece of work. One perfectly timed magical attack had completely scrambled the enemy's entire front, with the rearguard facing the brunt. The fascists had recently sent in troops to begin their counterattack, with the survivors struggling against the mass of humanity. Although a single attack like this probably won't turn the tides in the war, it will at the very least prolong it.

Had Ephidel been capable of grinning he would have. More quintessence for his master. His body was already shaking with the enormous amount of quintessence he was storing. Maybe even a bit too much of it.

He was standing on top of a building, with the smoke concealing his silhouette. Behind him, the figure of Jaffar came into view.

The assassin said, "Your body is shaking with that magical energy. Perhaps it's time we sent back some to our master."

He was right. He was already past his harvesting limit, and staying idle for another few hours would cause him to explode. Nergal would be able to extract the life energy from him and put it into good use. After a few days rest, the sorcerer would be good as new.

Ephidel agreed and began chanting from a grimoire given to him by Nergal. In it contained magic powerful enough to teleport two beings a faraway distance...

The duo vanished in a flash. The force of their teleportation caused a whiff of smoke to further pollute the air.

Nergal would be a happy man today. But this would come at a devastating cost. The sorrow and misery of the people of Carazan.


	29. Last Stand

**Chapter 25: Last Stand**

 **By SodiumChlouride12, derived from Fire Emblem, owned by Nintendo.**

 **A/N: Can't really think about what to put here. A review would be nice...but then again just y'all being here is a blessing enough. I'm open to all feedback...so I hope y'all enjoy the fruits of my labor.**

* * *

Sometimes I wonder why I do this. I go out of my way to help these people...but at what cost? My body can only take so much punishment...even with the magical energies that inhabit this world. Every new injury takes a little longer to heal, and every new cut grants me increasingly more obvious scars. My brain has been rocked with so many concussions that I don't even remember the name of real parents anymore. It seems that my grasp of that older reality is slipping away weekly. My whole perception of reality feels like it's slipping away as well.

My mental state is decreasing by the day. The power I need to enforce my will on others comes at the price of my own conscious will. Now, it takes nothing more than a small ember to ignite my seething anger. My pride isn't getting any better either, and it's caused much trouble thus far. Although I haven't seen the likes of gluttony or lust yet, I'm aware that their right out the front door. The lock is nothing more than a small string holding together the door frame with the wall...an idiot could break through that. It won't take much for me to be completely dominated by my illogical emotions, and for that monster to take over my body.

I've underestimated him. Like a snake beckoning me to partake in the forbidden fruit, he set me up in a situation where he would emerge victoriously. My sense of right and wrong is disintegrating, but I know that his victory would come at the cost of the innocence. I've seen so many die in this accursed war, a war that erupted from the power vacuum caused by the disappearance of that all-powerful monarch.

That monarch...he stated that he was second in divinity to the Creator. One had to ask where his God was when that bomb went off. A God that would allow for his prophet to die at the hands of some nameless terrorist. Granted...perhaps that God had chosen to forsake him. Or maybe he didn't exist at all. I didn't know for sure.

I laud myself as a genius among idiots...but the sheer uncertainty I live with day to day frustrates me. The lack of information is the bane to any tactician's existence, but even then impatience outranks that. My stupid actions to endanger myself and Lumina were completely unnecessary. I realize that now, but hindsight is often 20/20.

 _Ow!_

I felt a small sting of pain surround my body. It was light at first but began to increase exponentially. It was the only sensation I could feel as my senses of sight and sound had given out a short while ago.

The small mustard seed ballooned into an inferno of despair. Intense heat rocked my body like an earthquake, and I could feel copious amounts of blood loss.

I just wanted it to stop. I didn't care if I died at this point...I wanted an escape. An escape from my responsibilities...an exit from the perpetual typhoon of sadness. I was ready to meet my maker right here...

 _Huh? What's that?_

A light appeared at the center of my vision. It was impossible to look away from, and it began to glow brighter. As it did so, the pain intensified, and I was soon overwhelmed by the light...

I opened my eyes surrounded by death and destruction. It was a hellhole. Fire covered every square inch in my direct vicinity, and the flame's wings lashed out to me like a whip. Smoke made it difficult to breathe, but not so much as to kill me outright. Rubble and other debris covered the floor, almost acting like a cushion to my battered body.

I had suffered some of the worst injuries of my life. There was a sharp pain in the left side of my chest, something I immediately associated with a punctured lung. My head had hit the ground during the blast, and I was dazed due to another concussion. My eyes were watering due to the intense smoke, and everything seemed blurry. My skin was dry and cracked; my left leg was unmovable due to a sprained ankle. The accompanying pain had me wish that someone would just come by and end it, but my abysmal vision wouldn't allow me to see any passerby's. The smoke made it impossible to speak, so calling out for mercy was out of the question as well. All I could do was sit and wait for the flames to come and kill me.

Perhaps this was for the best. Lumina was probably already dead and Lyn is far away. The latter would likely realize my demise in a few months, and although she would be overcome with sorrow, she'd end up finding another man. Someone who wasn't as weak or pathetic as I. In my view, my death would result in the death of Azazel, along with a net gain in Lyn's livelihood. There were no cons...other than the denial of my own selfish desires. Yes...I should just sit here and allow my body to turn to soot. Maybe my ash will fertilize some vegetation in some far off time...or just be taken away by the four winds.

The pain...if doesn't feel good. But it's for the best...

Suddenly, I felt a force lift me up from the ground. I recognized its aura, it's comforting grip. Looking at its face, I was able to make out a dash of white. Through my delirious stupor, I recognized my savior as the manakete Lumina.

 _She's...not dead?_

Her body heaved as she struggled to support herself and me. She had erratic, short breaths. Her skin was cold and clammy despite the intense heat. She lurched forward as she nearly fell over from her labor.

Through my difficulties, I managed to mutter a single sentence.

I said, "Lumina...put me down...save yourself."

She continued walking us towards safety. I was too weak to resist, and I just let go to her will.

The distance could have been several feet, or even several miles. Time continued on slowly, but with each passing second, the heat subsided. My lungs cleared as the smoke went down as well. After some time, she fell into the ground with a thud. Although I was still in pain, it was clear that we were in a safe location.

I muttered, "Lumina...why?"

Lumina spoke with a hushed whisper that could only be heard by me.

She said, "I...don't want you to die. Please...live on...for me. Please...remember...your...promise."

My eyes widened as I realized what Lumina meant. Shifting through the ground for her hand, I found it and didn't let go.

Lumina died holding onto the closest thing to a brother she ever had in her life. My blurry vision went wet with tears, and all I could see was the burnt husk of what used to be my companion. The companion I had endured so much adversity with...the only person that completely understands my pain.

For the first time in a long time, I felt alone. My cries fell on deaf ears on the battlefield, and I did not move an inch from that spot.

I don't know how long I mourned her there. As the day turned to night...I began to lose track of time...

* * *

Aquila could hardly contain her emotions as she threaded through the rubble. Most of the flames have already since subsided, but some isolated embers still inhabited some distant corners. She took a step over what used to be a storefront, and nearly landed on a former soldier's bony hand. She held back the urge to gag, but she had a clearer view of what had happened here.

A large magical fireball had engulfed this section of the line. The resulting inferno inflicted 90% casualties to their number, along with creating a lot of damage. The intention of this was to stop or at least slow their offensive and then counterattack after the initial blow. But no troops flooded this area. She wondered why.

Continuing to survey the area, she came upon the corpse of a fascist soldier. His head was split open from a precise arrow, and his blood was staining the ground. Considering the blood hadn't evaporated from the flames, it was clear that this man was felled after the blast.

She shifted her gaze forward and so another body. Then another. And another. About 100 enemy troops laid before her, an entire company. All shared one common trait...they had that signature arrow protruding from their temple. This was a development that intrigued the Major; no one in Carazan was this particularly good at archery. This was because of Carazan's non-existent hunting culture, so most people armed with a bow weren't exactly winning any awards. Yet, it appears that didn't stop this one lonely archer from fending off these soldiers. Such a feat would entitle any soldier to the highest possible military award, the Noble Cross. Whoever was responsible for this must have been with the rearguard during the attack, and had one valiant last stand among this rubble.

She wondered where this archer was, and her first clue was nearby. A broken steel bow laid at the side of the street, and it could have easily been mistaken for an ordinary piece of wood. It must have belonged to the archer, judging from its broken string. But ultimately, it wasn't the bow that was important to her. A red, bloody trail led to a place further west, so Aquila decided to sate her curiosity. Her troops had since filled in the hole caused by this attack, so she felt free to investigate.

She followed the trail, noting how the bright blots of crimson became of less volume with increased distance. She weaved past former businesses, homes, and a public library. The road was black from the smoke, and it gave off a hideous odor. But she didn't care. She began to realize the gravity of the situation, and how nobody could lose this much blood at once...

She stopped. The blood trail had become unrecognizable against the black ground, but she didn't need it anymore. She covered her mouth as she came upon a grizzly sight.

A man laid comatose on the ground. His clothes were black from the burns, along with some of his skin. His black hair was like camouflage against the pavement, but he still appeared alive.

But the same could not be said for his companion. The entire right side of her body was black due to a direct hit from a fire spell. Her white hair was nothing more than a scalp...it had burnt off. She had five arrows protruding from her body, and about twenty cuts penetrating her skin. Her left leg was split in half, with bare bone visible. Tears began to form in the Major's eyes as she tried to imagine the amount of pain this woman was enduring at her final moments.

She gasped. She came to a revelation.

She knew these people.

The man was none other than the tactician, while the woman was none other than his trusted companion Lumina. Lumina had spent her last time on Earth protecting the man he considered his brother...

Aquila collapsed on the floor and began bawling. No single word could describe the sorrow in her heart, nor would she try to. It had only been yesterday when she had seen these two laughing and talking to one another. Now, one was going to have to spend the rest of their lives without the other, with nothing but thoughts of what could have been.

What could have been...

I woke up hurting all over. To my relief, it wasn't as bad as earlier, but it pained me to move. I looked over at my skin and was shocked by how well it had healed from the flames. It gave off a healthy tanned glow, with a few streak marks left over from the burns. The tips of my hairs were still burnt, but that could be tended to with shaving and time.

 _Hmm...that's odd._

I made out a blue figure sitting on a stool nearby. It appeared to be reading something to pass the time and was oblivious to my awakening. I strained my eyes to try to visualize its features, but my eyes failed me. It looks like magic couldn't fix everything I suppose. I surmised that I was back in Carvel's manor, where the man had put me in one of his guest rooms.

I said calmly, "Hi...who would you be?"

The figure put its literature on a nearby table. It got up from the stool and came up to me. It had a feminine voice I immediately recognized.

Aquila asked, "Huh? Do you have amnesia Mark?"

I shook my head.

I replied, "No...it's just that I think the smoke did something weird to my eyesight. Everything's blurry right now."

She put what I assumed to be her finger above her chin.

She replied, "I've never heard of something like that before. If it doesn't go away you might have to get glasses."

Glasses...I have some faint memories of having to wear some in my old life. I led a fairly active lifestyle, and I broke them more often than I really should have. Oh, how I took for granted the gift of 20/20 vision. On the bright side, at least technology here had the capacity to produce trinkets like these. Even if it's something as simple as modified glass on frames.

I asked, "Does Carazan happen to have an optometrist...wait...Lumina..."

I remembered how she carried my immobile body across what seemed to be hell itself. She was the sole reason I didn't suffocate or burn to death earlier. Unfortunately...she did this at the cost of her own life...

A tear fell onto my blanket.

I said, "I don't understand...why?! Why did she save me? Why did she have to die?!"

Aquila replied, "She died defending you Mark. She truly cared about you...and her familial love for you guided her hand. She routed an entire company of the enemy by herself. She was truly dedicated to what she was doing."

I slammed my hand on my bed.

"I wish she had instead turned and left me for dead! She's been alive for _centuries_! She had so much to live for...but me? I'm damned to a familiar cycle of despair. I'm a harbinger of death, with the swipe of a pen I could order the demise of an entire people. I'm filth...no I'm worse than filth. The demon that lives within me will lead me to a hellfire...that is for certain. My life is not worth saving."

I heard a voice emerge from an unknown location. It carried with it a familiarity I hadn't bore witness to in months.

"That's where you're wrong."

Two figures entered through the front door. Their tall posture and copper/brown hair made it clear who they were. It was none other than my old companions Barthillas and Yanden.

I said, "W-What?! What are y'all doing here?"

Another voice emerged through the door. My face went hot and my heart jumped.

"Not just them. But for me as well."

A slender figure with dark purple hair came into view. On her right, there was a large, yellow-haired man that I took for her knight. They had Lycian dress, but I could recognize that voice anywhere.

It was Lyn's. Lyn had found me. My mouth went wide open.

Aquila said, "Sorry, but I figured that if you woke up with them around then it might've been too much for you to handle at once."

The blue haired former maid stood up and made for the exit.

She added, "I'll make my way out. I'll leave the heartfelt reunion to you."

Although it probably wasn't her intention, she closed the door with enough force to cause it to slam. The noise caused me to jolt up in a small episode of terror, but it soon subsided.

At this moment, my only regret was that I couldn't make out the precise facial expressions of my friends. Clarity was only sufficient at a distance of about a foot from my face.

Lyn walked forward and took my hand. The warmth in it evaporated any anxiety I had in my body. Yanden, Barthillas, and whom I assumed was Kent stood nearby.

She said, "Hello darling. It's been a while since I've had the pleasure of listening to your funny accent."

I smiled. Even in a touching moment like this she still had to include a slight jab like that. This a part of her I hoped never changed.

I replied, "Hey...nice to see you again. I take that you're still putting that icky stuff on your face before every hunt?"

Might as well take some pot shots while she's here anyway. Lyn's face went red.

She said, "To think I traveled all the way here to just to have my lover bad mouth me. We even had to dye our hair and eyes so that we wouldn't be recognized in public. Its fairly inconsiderate, your friends have spoken highly of you. They had to do a lot to get us here."

Yanden stepped forward, "We had to convince Whitney to give us passage to Carazan. It took some time, but I was...persuasive."

Barthillas coughed. I'm not sure if it was a legitimate cough or stifled laughter.

Yanden added, "Er...yeah. While we were preparing to leave port this young lady appeared in Badon. She was asking for you, and once she told us who she was we knew we had to bring her with us. We took to the sea, but we were stopped for several days by a blockade initiated by those men. Eventually, we managed to slip through and land in a friendly port...and now we're here. It was quite the journey...but I was glad to be at sea again."

Barthillas said, "That lass was quite the traveler to have around. The sea can get repetitive after a while, but she and her knight kept us entertained with her their exploits. I didn't take you as someone who could fell a mighty knight with one concentrated blast, Mark."

I blushed and rubbed the back of my head.

"I used up all my mana with that attack. Nearly killed me and it caused a bunch of other problems. Funny thing is, after that, I got in some more trouble with someone else. I got beat up pretty bad, and had Lyn not given me some of her blood I probably would have bled out."

Yanden said, "Oh so Lyn's blood is compatible with yours? In my home country, two people with compatible blood types are said to be made for one another. Perhaps it was fate that you two fell for one another."

I disagreed, "No, to suggest that something out of my control like fate was a driving force in our relationship would suggest that my feelings towards her aren't genuine. I have free will, and it's untampered nature allowed me to love her as I do."

The nomad blushed. Yanden and Barthillas held in concealed laughter. I smiled awkwardly as I realized I had just gone off on a corny rant. I could tell Lyn wanted to change the subject to something less personal.

She said, "W-Well...how have you been Mark? Other than injury, I see that you got yourself involved in this country's civil war."

I replied, "To be completely honest...not good. First thing's first though, I'd like to go by a new name now. Please...from now on call me by my true name, Samuel Castillo..."

If I could level up in storytelling, I surely would have maxed out by now. Unfortunately, the act was unavoidable when trying to catch up with some old friends; smartphones haven't been invented yet. Regardless of my attitude towards it, I was still able to communicate my message effectively.

Yanden was intrigued when he heard of my epic escape from those slavers. Kent raised his brow when he pondered the possibility of a hidden civilization further east. Barthillas smiled when he heard of my triumph over the Sword Demon. Carvel [who had walked in earlier] acknowledged the validity of my story here in Carazan. Lyn flinched at the mention of every serious injury I sustained in my journey; which were many.

Despite my ever increasing oratory skills, I found it difficult to describe Azazel's resurgence. I've always struggled with describing arbitrary concepts; I went to college not as a philosophy major but as a mechanical engineering major after all. I did my best regardless and mentioned everything from the lady of Proxima Centauri to the demon lord himself.

Lyn was noticeably uncomfortable. It was clear to me she was trying to suppress some terrible memories.

Barthillas said, "So your meaning to tell me that Azazel's still residing within you? What is he some sort of parasite?"

 _ **A:** Your friend better watch his mouth if he doesn't want to be the first to die._

 **S:** Go back to the hellhole you came from.

I replied, "Yeah...I made the mistake of giving him the opportunity to manifest. He's been toying with my conscious mind constantly now. I've been thinking about ways to get rid of him...but none come to mind."

Yanden suggested, "How about we try to get the Elimine church to try to exorcise him out of you?

 _ **A:** I'll kill the priest and burn the church down. Then I'll crucify the altar boy..._

 **M:** Shut up!

I replied, "I don't think that'll work. I'm not sure if any form of light magic could fix this."

Lyn said, "Maybe my Mani Katti could come of use? It's a divine blade, so perhaps it could cleave your personalities apart?"

 _ **A:** I'll take my greatest pleasure in killing her. I'll defile her and then drain her body of her quintessence..._

 **M:**...

I said, "I'm pretty sure that would kill me. Excuse me y'all, I have to excuse myself for a moment."

I got up from my bed and walked outside the door.

Once I did so, I balled up my fist and had to hold back the temptation to put another hole in Carvel's wall.

It was no use. I can't even try to scheme ways to get rid of this bastard without him trying to mess with me.

Regardless of this demon's pleasure in my annoyance, I had to continue forward. Otherwise, I'd let him win. Whether it be due to pride's influence on me, or my own natural competitive spirit, I couldn't let that stand. I have to win, not just for myself, but for my friends as well.

"Oh hey, Mark! It's a pleasure to see you up and well!"

Carvel had turned the corner and came into view. I broke into a brief sweat as I hoped he didn't see my mini mental breakdown, but then I realized he had already seen me snap much worse earlier. He was all smiles and didn't seem to mind that I had almost caused damage to his property again.

I did my best impression of a composed tactician and greeted my friend.

I said, "It's nice to see you as well Carvel! What brings you here?"

Carvel tilted his head in curiosity.

"What do you mean what brings me here? This is my house."

Boom. Confidence gone.

 _That question was stupid. Time to make an awkward attempt to brush it off._

I replied, "Er...yes! I have to thank you again for granting me and my friends your wonderful hospitality. I presume that you've come to check on me?"

The noble nodded his head.

He said, "I did...I've also come to let you know that your duty with my faction has now been fulfilled. Thanks to your plan, and Lumina's valient efforts, we were able to capture some dockyards and are currently supplying our troops. The fascists are a long way from outright surrendering, but I think the writing's on the wall. You've done a good job, and I can't ask of anything else from you. If I did I'd be asking you to risk your life for my country. That isn't your responsibility but is for myself and my countrymen. Therefore, I humbly ask that you vacate Carazan with your friends. From the bottom of my heart...thank you."

I looked towards the ground, avoiding eye contact with the general. A tear hit the ground as I was reminded of her memory.

I muttered, "Lumina..."

Carvel put his hand gently on my shoulder.

He said, "Although she held back that entire company of enemy troops on her own, it is clear that she did it in the defense of you and nothing else. Regardless, I am prepared to bury her here with full military honors, with statues commemorating her memory adorning the town square once the war is over. As her last of kin...I'd need your permission of course."

Doing so would allow Lumina's memory to be entrenched in this nation's lore for eternity. School children would read about her in their textbooks. Biographers would scour libraries for information on the mysterious white-haired maiden. Historians would inquire about her past. Her tomb would serve as a confirmation of the existence of a hero.

Lumina was my hero. The rest of the world would share that view.

I said, "Yes...you have my utmost permission."

"So Lumina really is dead huh?"

I turned over to the person who said that. It was Simon, who was depressingly loading his things into the ship. The usually optimistic knight had a frown on his face.

We were at a dockyard on the north side of the coast. After introducing Simon and Raven to the others, we all made over to Whitney's ship to prepare for the journey back home. I had taken a hammock located in the ship's hull, with Barthillas and Simon serving as my immediate neighbors.

My voice had a somber tone to it.

"Yeah..."

Simon added, "I see...you have my condolences. She was a friend to me and Raven as well...so we can mourn together. Raven isn't taking this particularly well either. Even though those two bickered often, Raven greatly respected her."

"Oh..."

Simon put the last of his things on the cramped floor.

He said, "You two should talk. Maybe you can get a better grasp of one another. I don't mean to come off as rude, but you two were always fairly distant."

He wasn't wrong. It had always been Lumina and Simon who had been closest with Raven. I always did my best to avoid him, and the amount of dialogue we shared could probably fit in a small notecard. This was because I consistently felt uneasy around him...or rather his unnerving glare.

I suppose it was time to break the ice. If for nothing else than to mourn with him over a fallen friend.

I took my leave from Simon and made my way to the deck. The stairwell to the surface was rickety and had signs of termite infestation, but it supported my weight effortlessly. Breaking into the sunlight, I took a whiff of that refreshing ocean air. I was glad to be free from the confines of the damp, musty hull. On board, the deck was being shared by about a dozen persons, most of which was being occupied by Whitney and her crew. The blonde captain was busy barking up a storm as her laborers loaded up her ship with goods bound for Badon.

She exclaimed, "Work faster men! Carvel can only guarantee a break in the blockade for several more hours! Goods from Carazan won't hit the global market for a while...so we have the opportunity to make a killing! Put us at full capacity by the end of the hour and I'll guarantee your bodies will be filled with so much booze that you won't be able to control yourselves!"

At the mention of alcohol, the men increased their speed by about 150%. In another life maybe Whitney would have made a decent industrial engineer.

Granted, it doesn't take an engineer to realize the three things a man most holds dear. Behold the holy trifecta of happiness; beer, money, and women. Each is powerful on their own, but should you combine all three you might just summon a giant robot.

I spotted Raven gazing over the sunny horizon. As I approached him, my heart jumped not because I feared, but in response to the faraway magical artillery pounding the earth. I did my best to calm my nerves, and I greeted him.

I said, "H-Hey R-Raven! It's n-nice to see we have some fair weather today!"

The reserved mercenary stayed still. It was like he hadn't even heard me.

I cleared my throat and tried again.

"Raven?"

He slowly tilted his head around towards me. He had a plain expression, like a regular glazed donut. It wasn't angry or even mildly annoyed. It was indifferent as if he had not a care in the world. But I quickly found out that it was a facade.

He said, "You speak like a man trying to profess his love. Funny...I said a similar thing to Lumina."

I replied, "It's n-not what it looks like! I'm just a bit jittery right now."

He smirked and beckoned for me to join him by the railing. I took him up on his offer.

He said, "Lumina meant a lot to me. Although I'm not too familiar with you, I feel that if Lumina felt obligated to protect you then you must be an honorable man. I heard among the crowd that you'd like to go by a new name if I am correct?"

I replied, "You'd be right. My full name is Samuel Castillo. Mark was just a moniker I used before I discovered my true identity."

He said, "Ah...so you were amnesiac. What a long journey you must have taken on then."

He looked towards me and smiled. It was the first genuine smile I had ever seen from him. It came in stark contrast to all the unnerving glares, cold shoulders, and untrusting aura I had received from him. The warmth coming from his person was uplifting, and I doubted I would ever receive it again.

We looked out over Carazan. Above all the smoke and fire that littered the city, I spotted a cathedral whose spire was pointing towards the heavens. It came at stark defiance to its surroundings, choosing to look ahead than at the travesty happening around it.

Raven asked, "Tell me, Samuel, do you have any plans for the next hour?"

I responded, "Yes, I'll be visiting Lumina's casket at the cathedral. Would you like to come with me?"

He said, "Yes...I would like that very much..."

Raven and I went together to a cathedral that was tucked deep in monarchist territory. The cathedral itself was a structure built on a site that Elimine supposedly chose herself, and it was easily one of the most lavish buildings in town. The after mentioned spire pointed towards the sky, and from the inside, it looked like a heavenly spiral painted with gold, white, and holy yellow. Colorful stained glass depicted Elimine with a yellow sun around her head, making her appear more like the Greek god Apollo than the prophet of a monotheistic religion.

The pews were simple benches made of wood and had no cushioning. A long red carpet led to a warm hearth located centrally at the front, and a priest was humbly watching us silently behind some sacramental objects. Lumina's open casket was in front of the flame, and the orange color mixed with her skin.

She looked so peaceful. Like a burden had been lifted from her shoulders. On her right hand, she held an arrow, a symbol of her class. On her left, she held a white rose, representing her purity of heart. Although I doubted the latter, it couldn't be denied that she represented the pinnacle of humanity. A pillar of hope that many future women will probably base themselves after. Raven left a red rose, while I left a purple one. It was customary for all roses to be thrown in with the grave during the burial, but since we will not be present due to uncontrollable circumstances, the priest will throw in our keepsakes in our stead. Tears fell down from my eyes as Raven struggled to keep his in.

I reminisced on all of our memories together. The good...the bad. Some of which had already disappeared due to my countless concussions, others I will cherish until my final hour. Before me was one of the few people I considered my family, and now she was no more.

I questioned why I tried so hard to find family. I was so excited when I thought Ninian and Nils were my siblings, only to be rebutted. Although I considered Lyn to be basically family, I wasn't content with just her. I wanted more...a support network of human beings that would all be bound by a relationship of familial love. Perhaps it was because in my old life I had an extended family numbering countless individuals, and now that I was in Elibe that number was cut drastically. Maybe Lumina was looking for the same thing, especially since her only family was taken away from her. A little girl lost alone in the abyss of the world.

I understand now why we both connected so well. We both longed for something that was taken away from us, and we were able to mutually fulfill that need together. By calling her my sister, and myself her brother, we essentially _became_ siblings. Not one related by blood, but by the afternentioned familial love. We mutually supported each other through some of the most difficult moments of our lives, and I will forever be grateful to have known her.

Raven silently went up to her and made the sign of Elimine. I went up to her and followed suit.

I knew that we were to leave shortly. Although I wanted to stay longer, our time was up.

Turning away from the white manakete one last time, my promise to her was still fresh in my mind. I was a man of my word, and I shall do everything in my power to honor it.

 _Farewell Lumina. You can rest now. I haven't forgotten about your promise. I will find your dear sister and release her from her chains._

 _I'll live the life with her I never could with you. I'll do it for you..._

 _Hermana mayor..._

The Carazanite coast seemed distant now. Its famous chapel was nothing but a faint needle barely visible in the sky.

We had left port about an hour ago. Had we left an hour later, we'd still be stuck in Carazan with brown boats serving as prison bars. Carazan and Aquila were at the port to send us off, and it was there that I bid them farewell. It was a quiant affair, but tears were involved. Although Carvel was able to maintain his composure when I gave him a firm handshake, the blue-haired maid was overcome with emotion. She embraced me in a tight hug, a gesture that I was not prepared to take. Regardless of that fact, I relented. She was the one that found my crumpled body in that rubble after all. I still remember what she whispered in my ear.

 _She said, "It's a shame you have to go. I actually found you a bit charming."_

 _I flinched, "Wait what?!"_

A slightly annoyed Lyndis arrived soon after and took me away back to the ship. She had a smile on her face while she did so, though it was clear it was a facade. I wondered if she considered cutting down Aquila right then and there.

I looked out toward the Carazanite coast again. The cathedral had now disappeared.

 _Carvel said, "Come back and visit after we win this war. We'll be waiting...and I'm sure she will be too."_

To be honest, I hoped I never had to go back to that town again. If it wasn't for the fact that her grave was there, I'd wouldn't have to. I'll be bringing her sister here when I find her...what was her name again?

 _Laniakea..._

Her name means immense heaven. I hope that Lumina's watching me from heaven right now...

I heard Azazel break into a subconscious maniacal laughter.

 _ **A:** Muwahahaha! Finally, we've left that hellhole! Now the rest of the world can witness my scourge!_

If this devil doesn't calm down...I'm going to need all the divine intervention I could get.


	30. Discovery

**Chapter 26: Discovery**

 **By SodiumChloride12, derived from Fire Emblem, owned by Nintendo.**

 **A/N: Yet another one-chapter supporting character ark. When I first played FE7 as a young boy, Erk was my favorite character because he reminded me a lot of myself. In other words, I made sure to reset the chapter every time he died. Which was often.**

 **I wasn't exactly the smartest 5 year old.**

 **I'll be writing a few fluff chapter after Chapter 27. So make sure to look out for that in a couple of weeks. For now, I hope you enjoy the latest chapter on my fanfiction! As usual, reviews aren't expected but are incredibly appreciated.**

 **N: Away from the blowing trade winds in the south, warm air begins to dissipate in the north. It is here, in the fertile breadbasket of the world, where Erk finds himself in the capital of one of the most powerful nations in the planet.**

* * *

Warm wind blew through the city of Aquleia. The current sent birds scrambling for the skies, while others chose to sit idly on their roosts above the city the buildings. The birds felt the thermal heat excite the muscles beneath their feathers, but they knew this would not always be the case. Summer was drawing to a close, and it wouldn't be long for when they'd have to make the annual migration south for the winter.

The strong wind coursed through the dense streets, bustling markets, and tall cathedrals that made up Aquleia's city center. It knocked off a nobleman's hat, tossed over a young peasant boy playing hopscotch, and toppled over some light pottery created by a merchant artisan. Its natural ferocity did not discriminate towards the poor or the rich, and soon enough it traveled north towards the University of Etruria at Aquleia.

The University of Etruria (or UE for short) is the most prestigious institution of higher learning in the known world. The forty or so acres it occupies is responsible for about 50% of Etruria's scientific and magical development, along with 25% of the world. Its students are the most selective in the planet, and its professors the most decorated. The school colors are dark purple and burnt orange, although the meaning of such colors has since been lost to history. The buildings are made of clean marble, while the sidewalks were reinforced with polished cobblestone. The campus was truly beautiful, and it's rival; the University of Bern, could only hope to imitate such splendor.

This University formed the core of Etruria's economic, cultural, and scientific dominance over the world. Many budding orators would pass through these gates, and left them as a great statesman. Many accomplished lawyers, engineers, and businessman were alumni here. Poets and other artists developed their ideas within these halls. The library was the largest of the world, and some books in its inventory could only be read by the handful of professionals that knew that ancient pre-Elibean language named Naphtali.

The University's significance to the nation was so great that it's existence and funding is guaranteed by the Crown. Although the exact number is a state secret, it can be assumed to be in the millions of gold pieces. In the eyes of the Crown, this was a sound investment. After all, in addition to military technologies; many new marketable products were developed, with the tax dollars finding their way right back to the royal coffers.

Crossing a small stream that marked the edge of the campus, the gust made its way to a high tower located centrally. It effortlessly danced up its stone walls and blew open a stray window. A series of miscellaneous papers escaped through the new opening.

"Bah! What was that?"

A purple-haired mage begrudgingly lifted his head through the window and looked outside. It was a beautiful day, one that should be spent basking under the sunlight.

 _Lame._

He slammed the window shut without a second thought.

Perhaps he should have left it open, as his pale skin suggested he hadn't seen the sun for days.

Turning back towards his table, he rubbed his sore eyes. It was full of literature, lab reports, and scientific journals. He gave a big yawn. He hadn't had a decent night of sleep in about a month. It wasn't due to the fact he had been spending all of his time in his study; he had plenty of opportunities to rest his eyes here and there. Rather, he had been drinking copious amounts of coffee (which he had grown to love), and the substance was killing his sleep schedule. He wondered if his adoptive mother would notice this development.

An adoptive mother that just so happened to be royalty.

The Reglays. A noble and prestigious family based here in Etruria headed by Lord Pent and his wife Lady Louise.

He and Lord Pent first met a long time ago, about a month after Erk was lost his parents at the ripe age of 12. The noble must have taken pity on the young man, or noticed the book he was reading amidst his poor condition in the snow...

 _Erk was shivering in the cold as he rested his back against the frozen wall. Etrurian winters were known to be brutal, and especially so during a blizzard. Despite that, he had managed to find some shelter behind an old home. The owner either didn't notice him or didn't care, but he was grateful for it nevertheless._

 _He turned the next page of his only possession. It was a book on mana theory, having been passed down from his late father. Despite his horrible living conditions, he took pleasure in one of the few things he enjoyed in this world. Reading._

 _But something took his attention away._

 _"I see you're reading a book about mama theory. Although it's a good subject to read about, there are better places to read than out here."_

 _Erk lifted his head away from his book. His unkempt purple hair was bleached white against the snow, although the book was dry under the protection of his body._

 _He saw a young man with white hair and fancy attire. He had what Erk recognized as an Elfire tome on his right hand, and a bag of groceries on the other._

 _Erk replied, "I don't really have anywhere to go..."_

 _Tears began to develop around Erk's eyes. He had lost his parents for about a month and had been alone for as long. The church hadn't arrived to commit him to an orphanage yet, so he had been subsisting on restaurant garbage and taking shelter in whatever he could manage. He had felt so alone...but as long as he had something to read he knew he could carry on._

 _The man asked, "Surely you could go to the library? I hear it's nice and cozy in there."_

 _Erk shook his head, "They kicked me out last week. They said they don't serve orphaned boys like me. It makes me so sad. I'm almost done with this book you see, and I've wanted to read about Natural Sciences. But the only place that I can read about it is at the library..."_

 _Erk could feel an intellectual aura surrounding this man that he was talking to. Before, anybody that he'd talk to would simply shrug their shoulders while he attempted to talk about his interests in the academics. But this man different. It was like they were under a mutual understanding._

 _The man said, "Well...we can't have that, can we? If nothing else we need to get you off this street son."_

 _Erk replied, "I appreciate that sir...but I'm more concerned about learning new things. What's the point of life if I can't dwell in the realms of magical understanding?"_

 _The man titled his head at that remark._

 _The man asked, "Is that what you really want?"_

 _Erk nodded his head enthusiastically._

 _He said, "Yes..."_

 _The man paused as if he were lost in thought. He gave a confident, joyful smile that lifted Erk's spirits._

 _He said, "Well...I happen to have access to an extensive library a short ride from this village. I believe it'll have everything you'll need._

 _He extended his hand towards the young boy._

 _"Are you interested?"_

Lord Pent adopted him right then and there, and his wife was all but elated when he returned with him back to the castle. Although it took some time to adjust, Erk quickly acclimated to his new surroundings and his new guardians.

Now, along with familial love, Erk has all the resources he needs to dedicate himself to his study. It's not an easy life, as it's one that requires him to pour countless hours towards experiments, research, and other academic pursuits. But it's one he's grateful for, more so the adoptive parents that granted him this life.

He gazed over at the large grandfather clock that stood at the opposite end of his room.

 _5:00 pm..._

It was a Friday, and it was time to go home. Not to the dorm room he occupied on the weekdays, but to Castle Reglay. Fortunately, the castle was only a few hours ride by the royal road, so Erk would be back home by that night. He was looking forward to the home-cooked meals that Louise (despite her status) loved to make for him, along with the improved bed. His parents even went as far to provide a small personal lab in the castle for minor experimentation. His heart was at Castle Reglay, and he was ready to leave for it.

He put his vials, books, and papers away at a safe location. It took him several minutes to put the lab back in clean order, but it was a necessary task. Should he leave it dirty, the dean would likely give him another one of his notorious lectures.

When he was done he grabbed his robe and locked the door. He traveled down the empty halls; many of the staff had already left an hour earlier. Unhampered by meaningless conversation, he found himself at the stairwell. Looking down, he spotted the spiraling, long staircases that led to the ground.

Erk cursed himself for choosing a lab so high up the tower. He wasn't exactly in peak physical shape, so he was due for a rough time...

* * *

 **Later...**

A comforting, familiar voice erupted through the castle courtyard.

"Oh, my dear Erk! It pleases me to see you well!"

It came from none other than his adoptive mother, Louise. She rushed towards him and hugged him, nearly tackling him to the ground in the process.

"Lady Louise! You mustn't be so forceful! It'd be a shame if you were to hurt yourself!"

He felt her grip on him loosen. Finally able to breathe, he smiled at the blonde before him.

She said, "Oh don't worry yourself. I'm 28 years young! I can't possibly hurt myself that easily."

Erk rolled his eyes.

He said, "You'd be surprised. I'm only 19 and I'm still feeling the repercussions from that injury I received a few months ago."

Erk realized that perhaps he shouldn't have mentioned that. Louise frowned.

She replied, "How badly does it hurt? Maybe we need the nurse to look at it, or perhaps you should stop by the sauna and wash away some of the pressure? Oh...your eyes are so baggy. You really need to get more sleep dear. And your pores are so dry..."

Louise took out a purple bottle of lotion from an unseen location and expelled its contents onto her index finger. She then rubbed some of Erk' face, much to his annoyance. He jumped back with a flustered face.

Erk exclaimed, "Lady Louise! Did you have that thing with you this entire time?!"

Louise replied, "Of course I did! How else do you think I can keep my skin looking this clear? Noble warriors such as myself need to protect ourselves against the elements you know?"

He said, "Er- I suppose your right."

Erk, having suitably calmed down, applied the remainder of the lotion himself. Louise looked on behind her shoulder, having shifted her attention somewhere else.

Erk asked, "Where's Lord Pent? Has he returned from his business?"

Louise replied, "He's here...I'm just looking for him. He wandered off with one of our servants to tend to the horses...but I thought he'd be back by now. I wouldn't be surprised if went off on another of his unannounced nature walks. That man really worries me sometimes. What if a wild animal comes across him? What if he gets hurt? Oh, how the thought troubles me..."

Erk replied, "You know just as well as I that Lord Pent is very capable of taking care of himself. I'm more worried about the wild animal than I am of him."

Louise held onto the silver bow on her back. It was a fine weapon, and Erk noted its range of 200 yards.

She said, "But still...I made of promise to him that I'll protect him wherever he went."

Erk sighed. He had heard of this story many times over. When Lord Pent was a young man, he was one of the most eligible bachelors of his day. He had the option to choose from dozens of mistresses, most of which were of higher social standing than Louise (who was from a minor noble family). But rather than hone her skills in dancing and singing like the other women, Louise instead chose the path less traveled by. She took up a bow and trained with it every day, working from dawn to dusk. Eventually, she became one of the best archers in Etruria, surpassing even some of the military officers. When she was finally afforded time alone with Lord Pent, he was smitten by her charismatic personality and her dedication to bettering herself. Louise's unique skillset ended up sealing the deal for Lord Pent, and she ended winning his heart when she proclaimed that she would "protect him regardless of who he chose as his bride." Protection wasn't exactly something a dancer could provide, but it was definitely within the means of Louise's bow.

"Calm your heart, my love. I have returned."

Louise and Erk turned around towards the opposite end of the courtyard to see a white-haired mage. It was none other than Lord Pent himself.

Lord Pent is a prestigious man of great talent, and his outfit reflects that. His primary colors could be found in the fancy black and gold dress he was wearing; his nobility was evident in the purple cape he wore over his back. Despite his position, Pent found the rules of nobility too restricting. He was the mage-general of Etruria, yet he considers a commoner his adopted son. He was 10th in line for the throne, yet he married into a family whose best heir was 217th. Lord Pent was considered a renegade by his peers, a detail that doesn't seem to bother him at all. If anything, he appeared to relish in that reputation.

Louise's face beamed.

She said, "My heart is now indeed calm. Did you hurt yourself, dear? Perhaps you'd like to spend some time in the sauna with Erk here."

Pent smiled and approached Erk. The two shared a firm handshake, as they greeted one another.

Pent said, "Maybe, I could do well by catching up with my young student. But no, I wasn't hurt. I spotted a magnificent steer on my way back and I was immediately enamored by its gracefulness. It was a shame that I couldn't follow it for longer, but I knew I had to return to the castle. Regardless of that, it's a pleasure to see you home Erk."

Erk replied, "Likewise Lord Pent. I think I-"

A loud rumbling noise erupted from Erk's stomach. It was impossible to ignore, and the purple-haired mage blushed.

He said, "Oh my..."

Pent looked over at his wife, and then to Erk. After a brief moment of silence, they burst into laughter.

Pent said, "Come inside my student. I'm sure we can cook you up something nice..."

* * *

Erk refrained from giving out the belch he desired. His adoptive parents looked on as they shared dinner in the family dining hall.

Erk felt pampered. His every need was being met by his supportive parents, all thanks to a decision Lord Pent had made 6 years ago. Since he was an only child, he was able to receive all of his guardian's undivided attention. Sometimes he questioned why Lord Pent and Louise were so quick to accept him into their impromptu family; especially considering all the social backlash they received. But such questions were best not asked. All that matters right now is the croissant that Erk was devouring.

It was a bit ironic. Just a few months ago he was babysitting a pink-haired monster. He was fighting off large amounts of soldiers and risking his life for an inheritance dispute his client had decided to involve themselves in. He was glad when he was finally able to rid himself of her...but she served as a lesson. Next time, he would take a greater effort in scouting the personalities of his clients.

Pent asked, "So...how's progress going with your research? With the demon inhabiting your friend's body?"

Erk politely placed his meal back onto his plate. He made sure not to drop any crumbs onto his robe, as is customary with nobility. It took Erk several years to develop the mannerisms of a noble, but he had finally engrained the customs deep in his subconsciousness.

He replied, "If you want me to be honest with you...not well. I've basically been living in the library and the lab for several weeks, but I can't find any credible sources to support Mark's case. In addition to that, I've wasted some time following a lead that ended up taking me nowhere. It's all very frustrating..."

Louise said, "Don't worry yourself too much. You're smart enough to figure it out. I'm certain that you'll get over this hump soon enough."

Erk replied, "I'm not so sure. The library at the university is the best of its kind. If I can't find information there then I probably can't find it anywhere else."

Pent said, "Have you tried searching our own library? It's not as extensive as the library's but..."

Pent paused. It sounded like he had just mentioned something on a whim. As if he realized that perhaps he shouldn't have said it.

Erk said, "But...what?"

Pent replied, "Let's just say that we have some...forbidden texts here at Castle Reglay. I had a distant relative that used to rule over a large ancient country, and while he had lost his right to rule that country, his texts somehow made their way here to Etruria. Nobody's laid eyes on them in several centuries, but I wouldn't be surprised if they contained information that could help your friend. But I'd be careful. Should the church ever figure out that we have these texts, then we'd soon find ourselves in the gallows."

An eerie aura filled Erk's body. He felt like he had just stumbled upon something sinister in nature with regards to his master. Lord Pent has always appeared to be a beaming example of positivity to him, and he never suspected that he had a dark background.

Apparently, neither had his wife.

Louise gasped, "I wasn't aware that we had such texts in our abode, my dear."

Pent looked away towards the large chandelier looking above their heads. It swung lightly against the thin air.

He said, "They've been passed down generation to generation. Even if we desired to destroy them, we can't. My great-grandfather attempted to destroy the documents in his fireplace...but they remained unharmed. No sword can tear its parchment...no amount of acid could blemish its letterings. Since revealing this secret to the church or state would likely end with the reign of the Reglays, we've made it our mission to never let them see the light of day behind lock and key. No man or woman had ever set foot on the cache's chamber since my great-grandfather."

Erk felt anxious. Yet despite that, his curiosity of the subject matter intrigued him. To him, forbidden knowledge like this tasted like the finest wine. Just smelling its fumes at the moment was enough to intoxicate the young mage.

Louise knew this just as well as anybody else.

She said, "I'm getting the impression that this cache is cursed. I'm not comfortable with letting Erk getting anywhere near it. Besides, how can we be sure that it'll contain information that helps Erk?"

Erk bit his lip. Although Louise was usually complacent with Lord Pent's will, when it came to Erk's safety she refused to budge. Right when he was about to have his fun.

Pent looked down towards the table. His long white hair fell in front of him, obscuring his face.

He said, "That's because my distant relative was the daughter of King Azazel of Fibernia. King Azazel was a demon."

Erk's eyes widened.

This was everything that he could have wanted.

* * *

Pent and Erk went down the dark stone steps. They were on their way to the cache's chamber, with nothing but torchlight guiding their way.

Erk could barely contain his excitement. Despite Louise's objections, he had managed to convince Lord Pent to allow him to read the forbidden texts. But this wasn't without some precautions, however. His robe, his hair, not one inch of his body hadn't been drenched in holy water prior to this journey. It was the only thing he could do to bring Louise peace of mind.

 _Hmm...I wonder where Lord Pent was able to get all that holy water from?_

Pent said, "There...I think we've found it."

The duo stopped in front of a large brass door. It was surrounded by a wall of earth and moss, and contained engravings that were written in Naphtali.

Erk got closer to read them. Placing his index finger on the metal, he was rewarded with a small shock.

He held in the urge to scream out in terror.

Pent said, "I'd pay it no mind. Just some static."

Erk replied, "O-Of course."

Erk was initially looking forward to this, but the longer he stayed down here the more he was being filled with a sense of dread. It felt like someone was trying to _pressure_ him to leave this place, like an invisible force pushing out intruders.

Well...Erk didn't get himself wet for nothing. Might as well learn something here now that he's in front of the door.

Straining his eyes at the engraving, he began to read the encryption.

 _To thou seeking knowledge...for thou, the door shall open. For thou seeking power...may thou be cast aside and forgotten. For thou seeking neither...leave this chamber immediately as you may gain nothing here._

 _Proceed with caution mortal. This is the resting place of forbidden knowledge. The information behind this door has directly brought harm to millions of people. If thou simply desires knowledge for good or for knowledge's sake...then turn the knob and indulge in its parchment. If thou desires knowledge, the knob will reject you._

 _Long live the King._

Pent said, "This is where I leave you. I neither desire the knowledge nor do I need power. If you run into some trouble, don't hesitate to use a fire spell."

Erk replied, "Thank you, Lord Pent. I'm grateful. I'll return to the surface when I'm done..."

Pent disappeared into the winding staircase towards the surface.

Erk took a deep breath in from the stuffy air. A drop of sweat fell from his brow as he rested his hand on the doorknob.

He felt like he was going to be inflicted with some curse right then and there. But that didn't happen. In fact, nothing happened at all as he opened the brass door with ease.

Creeeeeek!

Taking a step into the chamber, his initial reaction was that he was going to be confined to a small space. Far from it. He rested his eyes on the vast library before him, and in length, it easily matched the size of half a football field. Torches magically lit themselves as he walked through the dusty walkways, and he was able to dispose himself of his own torch.

Erk was internally screaming like a girl in a rock concert. The public library that Lord Pent had at the castle balked in comparison to this. He didn't even know where to begin...

He took a seat and randomly picked out a book from a bookcase. In a time without the Dewey Decimal System, he was going to have to individually read every book in this cache if he was going to find what he needed.

 _Let me see here..."How to bake a cake and eat it too." Not exactly forbidden knowledge...guess I'll have to keep looking._

Putting the book back...he continued on his search.

For several hours...

Till morning...

For about a week...

* * *

 **...?**

Erk laid resting on his bed. His head ached with pain, while his stomach felt like it was at the verge of emptying itself again. He was having feverish hallucinations and was muttering nonsense.

Louise looked over her adoptive son with worried eyes. She dabbed a wet cloth over his hot forehead to give him some relief. His breathing relaxed as he felt her soft touch.

Erk muttered, "Why yes Miss croissant. I will eat you."

Louise heard some faint laughter behind her. It came from his husband, who found some humor in the bleak situation.

Pent stopped when Louise's protective glare let his. Turning away, she went back to tending to Erk.

Pent said, "I feel a bit guilty about this. I had no idea that he'd spend a full week down there without food or drink. Please forgive my lack of foresight."

Louise felt a pain in her abdomen. One that she hadn't felt in a long time.

Ignoring it, she said, "It can't be helped. Can you get me some more cold water...?"

* * *

 _Erk opened his eyes and woke up. Or at least he felt like he did. He was in his all too familiar room, a nice little abode that was decorated with fine furnishings along with plenty of literature he had already read. The windows were void of sunlight, and the full moon gave his room an ominous white hue. An empty bucket stood on a stool nearby, and its user was nowhere to be seen._

 _For a moment, Erk felt relieved. The pain in his forehead had subsided, along with the fever. He had been so entranced in his search that he had forgotten about his own mortal needs...and he collapsed as he saw sunlight for the first time in a week._

 _They must've found me. Erk thought._

 _But something wasn't right. Erk couldn't move his body. Not only that...but his body was completely senseless. He couldn't feel anything, save for his rapidly increasing fear._

 _W-What's going on? He thought._

 _He shifted his gaze towards the corner of the room. His heart sunk._

 _He wasn't alone._

 _Standing there eerily next to the wall, was a tall red robed man. His heavily wrinkled face suggested that he was an elder, although his posture suggested otherwise. His face was pale, almost green like saltwater. The man was lacking emotion, and he seemed to just stand there like an idle scarecrow._

 _Who is this man? He thought._

 _The man slowly raised his head. Erk's worst fears were realized._

 _This wasn't a man at all. He was a demon._

 _The demon slowly began to approach Erk's bedside. The mage tried to move, but to his horror, his body wouldn't respond. He tried to budge his head, but no amount of strength could overcome this invisible barrier._

 _His head shuffled as he tried to piece together an explanation. Was that chamber cursed as he initially feared? He hadn't felt anything when he first entered...or when the holy water wore off._

 _Actually..._

 _Now that he thought about it...at this moment he couldn't feel the all-too familiar tingle of mana traveling through his veins. It was like it had been turned off on a whim...and he was unable to draw onto its power._

 _Erk was completely powerless._

 _The demon was within arm's length from the young mage. He opened his mouth to scream but nothing came out. He couldn't even cry out for help._

 _The demon locked eyes with Erk. The red beads of evil looked onto him like a lion would to a gazelle._

 _The demon had a devilish smile. It was the first emotion he had experience from the being, and it did nothing to curb his anxiety. His teeth resembled the vampires' of legend._

 _The demon spoke, but his mouth remained still. It sounded young, not unlike the voice shared by his friend Mark._

 _He said, "Yes...you will do..."_

* * *

Erk awoke covered in his own sweat. His light robe was black with moisture, and he was breathing heavily.

He frantically looked around for the red-robed demon, but he nowhere to be seen. Standing in place at the demon's old spot was a globe of the world, with Elibe facing the young mage.

 _Was that...all a dream?_

He could feel the comforting aura of magic returning to him. He closed his fist and allowed a few magical sparks to dance on his palm. A bright light from the morning sun brought in some well-needed heat...and Erk realized that he broke his fever. His body felt healthier than it had ever been; he'd have to thank Louise later.

But something in his room caught his eye. Shifting his gaze towards the window sill, he noticed a small red book. It wasn't there before, and his guardians would never leave such literature out in the open.

Never one to learn his lesson, he got up from his bed to sate his curiosity. His heels ached as they hit the ground, but he didn't care. His attention was best spent elsewhere...

He took the book and read its title. The lettering on it intrigued his interest.

 _A detailed case study on morphs..._

 _By Nicholas Azazel..._

* * *

 _It should be known that although for the most part morphs are devoid of emotion, certain creations can be made to exhibit them. This can be done by mixing together several personalities; henceforth I will name soul fragments. These soul fragments are exactly what the name implies, they are partial or whole pieces of souls. I won't go into detail how souls can be extracted from a human being; that's not within the scope of this analysis. However, by mixing these soul fragments with a morph during its genesis, the morph can contain the personality, memories, and abilities of the soul's owner. By mixing multiple souls into one vessel, personalities can be molded to cater to a creator's desire._

 _However, it should be noted that the soul still contains a human will, and will likely do everything in their power to take sole control of the vessel. Thus, sufficient binding magic will have to be implemented to keep the fragments from splitting. But should the reader desire to keep the sole soul in control of the vessel, the following advice should be taken._

 _First, keep in mind that multiple souls inhabiting a body will create immense amounts of mental anguish for the being currently in control. This can come in the form of nightmares, heightened vulnerability to battle fatigue, and depression. The other soul may also attempt to hijack the body temporally or permanently due to the degrading mental barrier. Thus, it's for the benefit for the desired soul for the two to be separated as soon as possible._

 _It will take a while to separate the two souls. So for the sake of the suffering soul, a potion can be administered to effectively numb the mind and make it less susceptible to a tormenter's actions. Keep in mind that this will lower the subject's intelligence by a sizable amount, so chaperone may be necessary. The manufacture of the potion can be seen observed in the following chapter._

 _There is only one place in Elibe that a soul can be separated. One must go to Illia and ask for the assistance of the divine dragon living in Mt. Merki. Her name has been lost to history, but I can tell you this. The subject will likely have to complete some great trial..._

* * *

Erk closed the book. It was midday now, and his stomach grumbled with hunger. He hadn't eaten a good meal in about a week, and he felt it was about time he said hello to Lady Louise and Lord Pent.

He had gathered all the information he needed. He knew what he had to do.

Erk searched the empty hallways of his home. He checked the library Lord Pent loved to study at so much...and was instead greeted by the librarian. When asked of the whereabouts of his guardian, the old man shrugged his shoulders. Next, he checked the garden Lady Louise tended to on her spare time. Again the same result...although the gardener did provide a clue.

She said, "Have you tried Calton hill? I've noticed that the lady will vanish and make her way there once a year..."

 _Once a year...is it some kind of anniversary?_

Pent and Louise's marriage anniversaries weren't for another few months...and their birthdays were nowhere near close. No religious festivals were to be observed today...so what was going on? Why wasn't Erk aware of this?

There had to be some reasonable explanation for this. Erk surmised that his answer laid at Calton hill.

He made his way over towards that location...which was a short walk away from Castle Reglay. One had to traverse through some open plain to reach it...and the journey was no big deal. But it wasn't the mild inconvenience of having to walk several miles that concerned him.

It was Calton hill itself, or rather its purpose. That hill was the location where the Reglay noble family would bury their dead. On top of the hill stood a mausoleum, an antiquated building that was built before the Scouring.

Churning his legs as he climbed the incline, he opened the exterior fence gate that closed off the mausoleum. The gate opened seamlessly; it had been maintained well. He waded through the small grass that waved peacefully with the wind and looked around. Tombstones and flowers were the only things that occupied the otherwise open area. Birds solemnly chirped as they flew between the building and the short trees nearby. The mausoleum was closed shut...signifying to the young mage that nobody was inside.

 _Hmm...their not out here._

 _Maybe that old gardener was speaking nonsense. A symptom of her ailing mind. It was foolish for me to have gone out here. Lord Pent and Lady Louise have no one to mourn..._

But then he heard it. Sobbing. It wasn't sinister in nature like in his dream but reflected genuine human sadness. On top of that...it sounded familiar. Too familiar in fact...

He shifted his vision towards a yet unseen corner of the hill. Near the gate on its north end, he spotted a familiar lock of golden hair dancing like flower pedals. The short gray next to it stood firm against any foreign influence.

Lady Louise was quietly sobbing into Lord Pent's shoulder. Erk was shocked. He had never seen the woman, who had refrained from even frowning in front of him; shed a single tear. To him, Louise represented a beacon of infinite happiness and hope. To see her reduced to a pained spirit brought Erk much discomfort...and encouraged him to sob with her.

Lord Pent was standing there like a pillar of support. His face was dry, and he was comforting his wife in his embrace. With honeyed words originating from the deepest corners of his heart, Erk could tell he was on the brink of breaking down as well.

 _What happened to them? What could bring them this much sorrow?_

The answer laid directly in front of them. It was a white tombstone in the shape of an infant angel. Erk covered his mouth to keep himself from making a sound.

 _No way! Did they have a child before me?!_

The tombstone read:

 _Here lies Robert Reglay. Despite never being given the opportunity of life...he is survived by two loving parents._

Stillborn?!

Erk's mind went into a frenzy. If Lady Louise had trouble conceiving a child, then it would explain everything...

Why they were so willing to adopt a commoner off the street. Why Lady Louise wasn't at his bedside during the child's death day. Why Lady Louise spent every ounce of her being to become a protective mother to him...and finally...

Why Erk had been only child this entire time.

Erk couldn't stay silent anymore.

He said, "Lady Louise...Lord Pent..."

The couple, startled, turned around to look at the young mage. Erk prided himself for being composed even in the most demanding situations...but this time his emotions got the better of him. A small tear rolled down the side of his cheek.

Pent said, "Erk..."

Erk replied, "I had no idea..."

Erk approached his adoptive parents and wrapped both of them in a big hug. They reciprocated the gesture...and proceeded in silence.

* * *

 **The next day...**

The bright morning sun made the manor shine with magnificent brilliance. The front driveway had a lone carriage on its circular shape, with the impatient horse beating his hoof onto the stone. The gate behind him was wide open, and a servant was waiting to close it. The coach was admiring the garden that adorned the facade of the manor from his seat.

The passenger was bidding farewell to his guardians. He was to leave Castle Regay shortly.

Lady Louise said, "Do you really have to leave? Perhaps you could stay around a bit longer."

Erk shook his head, "I'm sorry...but I have to attend to some pressing matters in Lycia. First I need to go back to UE to make this potion, and then after that, it's a beeline to Castle Caelin."

Pent said, "Are you certain you'll find your friend there? For all we know he could be in Fibernia or even Kafti right now."

Erk placed his finger on his chin.

He said, "He might not be there...but if anyone is going to know of his whereabouts then it'll be Lady Lyndis. I can start my search there. I'll have to be quick about it though, I'm not sure how far down the ladder Mark is right now."

Louise held tightly the white glove she had in her hand.

She said, "Must you really risk your life for this? It worries my heart that you'll get yourself killed out there against this demon..."

Erk smiled and gave Louise a hug.

He said, "Don't worry about me...I'll manage. I'll be back before long. Besides...if I were to leave a force like Mark to the tides of evil..."

Pent said, "We'd all sooner be dead. Go now, my student. You must not waste a second. As of now, you are on the clock."

Erk released himself from Louise. He went over to Pent and gave him a firm handshake.

Pent said, "Until next time..."

He replied, "Yes..."

Afterward, he climbed aboard his carriage and motioned for the coach to begin his journey towards Aquilea. It would be a short journey...but it would be enough to rest his eyes...

After all, he hadn't been able to get much sleep. That nightmare had made sure of it.

A red-robed figure patiently watched as the unassuming carriage left the castle. He was hidden behind a tree atop a hill, and he was certain he would not be seen.

He silently smiled. The satisfaction in it was comparable to no other.

 _Excellent...everything is going according to plan._


	31. Sea Thieves

**Chapter 27: Sea Thieves**

 **By SodiumChloride12, derived from Fire Emblem, owned by Nintendo.**

 **A/N: I've been listening to too much WW1 podcasts. Hardcore History is a fantastic source of historical story telling that could make a long day at the office seem so much shorter. I'm not sponsored by these guys, but Dan Carlin is an amazing narrator. Check them out; they inspired me to write part of what you're about to read.**

 **N: Samuel finds himself in an oddly familiar environment. War is has been, and will always be hell.**

* * *

 _The constant drum of gunfire and artillery seeped into the very essence of our mind. It rattled everyone indiscriminately...and not even the most grizzled veterans were unaffected. Our foxhole did well to defend us against those dangers...but was useless against the battle of the mind._

 _Our trench was cold and wet. The chap to my right was down with a bout of tuberculosis...and I was certain that if this war did not kill him then that disease would. To my right...there was a bloke I was fortunate to call my friend. His short white hair was brown with the excess of mud covering in...but he continued on with a smile. He was the ground right now cleaning his rifle the best he could...and his trousers we wet with moisture._

 _I'm not sure how much longer I could stand this. My old squadmate on my right had died just three days before...and the reserves were so low that they've decided to throw in a half-dead man in his place. A man they've sourced from our grand empire...from our dominion in Canada._

 _Canada...by God! I've heard rumors from the other men that if you find yourself next to these rough troops then it's a sign for an offensive coming soon! W-We...no I-I can't handle an offensive right now! I can barely even manage with sitting in this damned hole in the ground! W-What am I going to do?!_

 _"Hey, Markus...you holding up? You've got that thousand-yard stare."_

 _I looked over at Lukas, the after-mentioned white-haired soldier. He had since finished cleaning his gun, and he was chewing on some tobacco. Perhaps it was to calm his nerves...or maybe he just genuinely liked to give himself some mouth cancer. The rhythmic artillery continued to ring in my ear._

 _I snapped out of my trance._

 _I replied, "Y-Yeah I'm good. I should probably clean my gun too. I need to do something to get my head out of the clouds."_

 _He said, "Make sure not to bodge it. Our people back in the home front have been making rubbish for guns. These bloody things will jam on anything. I fancy some proper handiwork...but I'm getting tired of having to babysit my rifle. You don't want to damn thing to mess up during a battle...it could be your death sentence."_

 _I laughed and patted him on the shoulder._

 _I said, "These incompetent generals can't lead dead soldiers. I've got a wager with the junior officer that the new green recruit will last 3 days. It's quite a sum...so I hope he can live that long."_

 _The new green recruit was currently manning a machine gun nearby. He wore a felt hat that was woefully insufficient for war...supply problems meant he had to wait a week for a steel replacement._

 _Uniforms weren't only things we were lacking in. I hadn't had a proper meal for several days...and I had to subsist on some meager rations. All of the men had a horrid stench to them due to the lack of hygiene...showers were a luxury of the past. The residual gas from the artillery had left the entire area smelling like a gym sock, and it mixed horribly with the overall stink of death. Luckily, my allergies had managed to lock out most of it, otherwise, it would have been completely unbearable._

 _BOOM!_

 _A shell landed just ahead of our trench. It sent up a volley of mud that landed on my friend's helmet. He swore at the enemy's terrible shot. Our hearing was knocked out briefly._

 _After taking a moment to allow our sense to return to us, we looked at each other. We laughed at the close call._

 _He said, "Blimey. Any closer and that could've been the end of it huh?"_

 _I replied, "Yeah...I'm not sure what my girlfriend would do if I were to bite the dust here."_

 _I didn't even have a second to myself when an officer came running down the tunnel. He had a bugle in his right hand...and was barking orders. I immediately realized what this meant._

 _"Men! Fix your bayonets!"_

 _An offensive. Those brainless generals are going to send unarmored men into a chasm of gunfire, barbed wire, and artillery._

 _They were adding flesh to the meat grinder. God help us._

 _We fixed our bayonets to the ends of our rifle. I looked at this relatively obsolete piece of equipment. Theoretically, our force would slam into their lines and engage in close combat. Those who weren't mowed down my machine guns would fling around these lances in a confined space. I scoffed at that idea. A machete or even a small shovel would work much better in that environment...but these generals were so convinced in their 19th-century idealism's that the thought never crosses their minds..._

 _We anxiously waited for the signal to move. I held my rifle firmly in place in my grip. The Canadian to my left was busy emptying his stomach in the mud...and Lukas looked like he was contemplating doing the same._

 _Lukas took out a locket from his pocket. Opening its case, it revealed a black and white photo of a little girl. Her white contrasted greatly with the surroundings...although I couldn't make out her face._

 _I asked, "Is that your little sister?"_

 _He nodded his and replied in a somber tone._

 _"Yes...her name is Corrine. Our parents died a long time ago...and I had to leave her at an orphan's home when I got drafted. I smile every day because she said it was what brought her the most joy. But I'm scared."_

 _I said, "About leaving her by herself? I know life as an orphan is brutal. Oliver Twist has already ingrained that in my mind."_

 _I noticed Lukas' hands turn weight as he held his locket. He looked like he needed to take a weight off his chest._

 _He said, "Markus, you're my closest friend. If I die...I'd like it if you'd go to her and tell her I died protecting her and our country."_

 _Our country...Lukas had been feeding himself these lies to comfort himself. He knows just as well as I am that we were just pawns in this massive game of chess between egotistical nobles. The life of a soldier was effectively owned by them. Before...when we were regulated to swords and spears...the stakes were much lower. Back when casualties never exceed a hundred thousands. But now...the consequences were being felt by the tens of thousands of people getting felled by machine guns. Almost half a million of our boys were killed at the Somme alone. The amount of blood spilled could dye the entire Atlantic red._

 _But still...I couldn't blame him for trying to cope. God knows I can barely take care of myself even now. Lukas is an honorable man, along with my good friend. The best I could grant him is a piece of mind._

 _I said, "Don't worry about it, Lukas. I'll make sure she'll never get casts out into the street. She'll never go hungry."_

 _I was effectively volunteering to take care of Corrine._

 _Lukas fell back in shock. I had to pull him towards the ground so that he didn't expose his head to sniper fire._

 _He said, "T-That's too much to ask! I can't possibly expect you to honor that!"_

 _I replied, "Eh. Just now that if I die then it'll be your job to take care of my lady back in Birmingham. There'll be a lot of men swooning for her attention if I'm out of the picture, so I'd like it if she found someone nice."_

 _Lukas' face went red._

 _"M-Markus..."_

 _I reaffirmed my promise with a confident smile. If I prided myself on anything... then it was the ability to make do on my promises._

 _Unfortunately, it seemed it'd have to make good on that promise sooner than later._

 _Suddenly, I heard the one thing I was dreading. The high pitched bugle call._

 _With hardly a moment's notice...I threw away all my previous thoughts and focused on the task at hand. Lukas did the same as he hurriedly reloaded his weapon and removed the safety._

 _Everyone on the trench stopped what they were doing and prepared to jump. One of our planes streaked across the sky as kraut machine gunfire tried to bring it down in vain. The rhythmic artillery only intensified in strength._

An officer pointed his pistol towards the air. I knew he'd point it at us if we refused to leave the trench.

 _"Charge!"_

 _We climbed out of our foxhole in unison with everyone else. Lines of humanity began running across the open field. Bullets whizzed through the air as one killed the Canadian that was formerly on my left._

 _I pushed my legs harder against the ground. The mud felt like quicksand against my boots, but I continued on regardless._

 _Artillery was landing on our boys now. One of the shells threw a body into the air, which landed near my feet. My mind was numb when exposed to this dead body...I had gotten used being around still carcasses._

 _With my rifle in hand, I was ready to kill any kraut that stood in my way. I jumped some barbed wire, and it tore a huge gash into my trousers. There was a machine gun nest directly in front me...but luckily it was preoccupied with on some troops to our left. I drowned out the screams of agony and focused my sights on the gray-helmed man who was unaware of my presence..._

 _BOOM!_

 _A fiery explosion rocked my world. I was thrown into the air as my torso was ripped away from my body. Overwhelming pain made my mind panic frantically. I was at the cusp of death...and I reached my arm towards the sun peeping from the cloudy sky._

 _For a moment, everything was peaceful. The sound around me deafened and I felt like I was alone._

 _No war. No artillery. No gunfire._

 _Just bliss._

 _Ack!_

 _I began choking up blood...and I couldn't breathe..._

* * *

"Hack hack hack hack!"

I woke up choking and unable to breathe just like in my dream. However, instead of the blockage originating from my blood...it came from my saliva.

I fell out of my hammock and hit the floor hard. I planted my right hand into the wooden hull and placed my left around my neck. I wheezed and struggled to provide my body the oxygen it so desperately needed.

 _Calm down, Samuel. Control your breathing._

I had similar bouts of choking in my old world. Usually, they came at the behest of a dream that ended with me drowning...but they never came due to Great War inspired nightmares.

After several minutes, I finally regained control of my respiratory functions. Exhausted beyond belief, and leaned against one of the support pillars that I hung my hammock on. My pants were wet with moisture...

My efforts had created a small puddle of sweat to form around my struggling body. Admittedly, it was a bit embarrassing that it did. Luckily, my two neighbors were Barthillas and Simon. The two knights were blissfully snoring away the night, and the strong-sleepers hadn't even moved an inch during my plight. This was intentional on my part...as my frequent night terrors would have woken pretty much anybody else on the boat.

I considered sleeping with my back rested against the pillar. But my mind was so tired and wary that I didn't feel comfortable doing so.

Sitting there still, I didn't know what to do. I could just stay here and stare at the ceiling until I eventually went back to sleep, or I could go outside and catch some fresh air.

My body careened back and forth with the boat. The waters were relatively calm, but the constant movement was beginning to get to me. The hot, stuffy nature of the hull didn't make it any better.

 _Well, that settles it then._

I got up from the floor and began making my way through the various compartments that made up the ship's hull. I opened the door from my dwelling and passed through snoring sailors quietly. I didn't make a sound and went as far as to observe the pallet of colors that inhabited our seamen's heads.

I climbed up the rickety steps and observed the ship's deck. Some of the sailors that didn't mind the open air was sleeping under the waning moon. There was a man using a rope as a pillow, and another whose body was slouched over a barrel of rum. One went as far as to hang themselves in a cocoon-like structure from one of the masts.

I went over to the ship's bow and looked out in the vast blue expanse. It looked empty of all life, save for the marine life hidden with its waters. The smooth waves crashed into each other and the ship, creating a rippling effect that was replicated for miles. The dim moonlight made it difficult to see much farther out into the horizon, but granted what was there to see? More water?

I couldn't imagine spending the lion's share of my life doing this. Nothing but boring saltwater and equally lame cargo. The ship didn't even need everyone working on it at all times, so oftentimes the sailors would have 3-4 hours of free time a day. They'd spend that time trying to stave away that boredom by drinking, gambling, roughhousing, or thinking about how'd they'd spend their money once they reached port. Had the pirates not allowed me to help them run the ship, the brain-numbing waves would have reduced to nothing more than a husk of a man.

 _Like damn! Get a dog or something y'all. This is unbearable!_

There was a silver lining though. I hadn't realized how much time had passed. I was certain that it felt like several months, but in reality, it had been only two. The date today was October 19th, and we'd be back in Badon by October 21st. In addition, we'd be back in Caelin in time for the fall harvest on November 1st.

So much have happened in two months. I was enslaved for one month, in which I worked day to dusk without rest. After we escaped, it took us two weeks to get through Oltorf pass, and three days to resolve the Missurian crisis. After the dumpster fire that we'd left...I found it a bit nice that we'd found a change of pace. Even if it is boring as hell.

I was able to catch up with my friends in good time. I took Lyn out for a few morning strolls on deck, and we had small talk about life back in Caelin. I told her a bit about my life back in the States, but I made sure not to expose her to too much so that I didn't cause her uneducated 8th-century brain to explode. I shared a non-gambling game of cards with Barthillas, Yanden, and Simon. It was there that I realized that Simon and Barthillas had personalities that complemented each other, and the two got along just fine. After observing that, I suspected the same between Yanden and Raven, but that red-haired mercenary has always disappeared anytime I went out to go find him. Not that Yanden needed him to escape boredom...he was busy enough looking after the captain's antics. As for Kent, he was always by Lyn's side. This led to many occasions where the green princess would shoo away her bodyguard while we had some personal time together...despite his protests...

I don't think that red knight trusts me. Something about his demeanor and non-verbals suggests that he thinks I'm either a threat to him or his liege. I'm going to need to be wary around him. The last person that did that put a hole through my stomach.

 _And the scar is still there too._

"Ahem."

I turned around half-expecting Kent with a sword in his hand. I raised my hand defensively...but when I looked at the voice's originator, I took a sigh of relief. It was only Yanden. His copper hair had sent my mind into a spin.

I said, "Yanden, what brings you out here?"

He replied, "I could ask the same about your friend. Unless...do you feel it as well?"

I asked, "Feel what?"

He paused and looked out at the ocean behind me.

He said, "The evil in the air. It's the same feeling I had when we battled those walkers in Swampmarsh. It moved me to wake up and see what's going on."

I lifted my brow in curiosity.

I said, "I assume Azazel would give off an aura like that. It's probably nothing."

 _ **A:** I will be your downfall._

Yanden shook his head.

He said, "No...I've already learned to crowd out aura like his. This one's different. One much more human...more exploitative."

His eyes widened and he pointed towards the darkness behind me.

He exclaimed, "There! That light! It belongs to the slavers of Badon!"

He swerved my head behind me and as advertised I could see a faint light in the distance. It was red...and could easily be mistakenly taken for a star.

I removed a telescope from the first mate who was snoring blissfully nearby. I peered into the glass, and the red dot ballooned into a full blown ship. It was a frigate with a large hull, and it dwarfed our schooner in comparison. It had sails twice in size to ours, and the trade winds were filling them full. They were approaching us at a rapid pace and I was beginning to make out individuals...

 _Shit._

I nearly dropped my telescope. It wasn't just any slave ship...it was _the_ slave ship. I recognized that orange-haired Captain from anywhere. He was the same seaman that took Lumina and I away from Lycia and towards that hell hole in Carazan. I can still remember the look of satisfaction he had when he received payment for our sale. It was malicious, greedy, and devoid of all sympathy for us slaves.

I felt a surging aura of anger and wrath build around my gut. Like a mustard seed, the initially small energy began to envelop across my entire body. I could hear the suggestive whispering of the demon that inhabited my body.

 _ **A:** You want revenge...I can bring it to you. I'll deliver that captain's head to you on a platter. Just give me control._

 **M:** N-No!

I can't give him control. There's no telling what he'll do to the passengers currently on our ship. He's just trying to get in my head! I can't let him...

I can't let him.

I can't let Lyn see him. I don't know how she'd react.

"That's odd. Samuel your right eye's starting to turn amber like the left..."

I immediately pushed my emotions towards the depths of my consciousness. At least with the best of my ability. I spoke with a barely monotone voice.

"You must be seeing things Yanden. We mustn't waste any time. We must warn the crew of the impending danger. At this rate, they'll be within striking range in fifteen minutes."

I turned towards the deck. About a half a dozen or so crew members were blissfully asleep. They were unaware of the greedy bastards about to be on our doorstep.

Assuming that most of these guys are heavy sleepers, I knew that I'd something that would really wake them up. I screamed in a volume that I hadn't had to use since Swampmarsh.

"Sailors wake up! An enemy frigate is nearby!"

Every sailor on deck woke from their slumber. The seaman hidden within the cacoon frantically opened her zipper and fell onto the floor with a thud. Her blonde hair appeared white under the moonlight.

I smirked. It wasn't a sailor at all in there.

It was the captain. Whitney sure did have some weird sleeping habits.

* * *

"Work men! We have to outrun that frigate! It's those damn slavers!"

Whitney was jumping between man to man like a lunatic. She was micromanaging everyone, not unlike a certain boss I used to have at an old job. One second she was helping a young sailor with some ropes, and another she was behind the wheel trying to shake off those slavers. Although our schooner was significantly faster than the frigate, a large amount of cargo we had in the hull significantly slowed us down. In addition, the frigate also had a good angle on us with respect to the trade winds. At this rate, conflict was imminent. The frigate could be seen with the naked eye.

I was perched up at the crow's nest with the sailor's telescope. I was cautiously observing the approaching behemoth. The enemy sailors had large planks along with grappling hooks to prepare to board. They greatly outnumbered us, and my guess was that they have a 3-1 advantage. Their captain was steadily lighting matches attached to the ends of his beard...creating a mildly intimidating effect. His sailors were yelling out insults and other profanities to our men.

I sighed. If gunpowder had been discovered yet, we could try to harass them by pelting their vessel with iron munitions. Unfortunately, no one on this planet had discovered the wonders you could do by combining potassium nitrate, charcoal, and sulfur. It's a relatively simple process to make black powder...all one would need to do grind the ingredients into a very fine powder and then combining the products in a 75-15-10 percent ratio by weight. There are other processes to take into account as well...but it was well within the technological abilities of this world.

On a side note...I'm convinced that magic is simultaneously the worst and best thing to happen to this world. Magic is responsible for a lot of good...including better healthcare than it would have been in an otherwise magicless world. But these people are so reliant on it that they've ignored the possibilities that science could provide. Basic theorems in Calculus and Physics have yet to be invented; including the all-important Archimedes' Principle. In addition, magic was given at birth and not by merit; leading to a world where most of the peasantry and other exploited peoples are magicless. Even people with minor magical abilities are unable to hone them due to the lack of education provided by the nobility...

"Hey, Samuel...what should we do?"

I snapped out of my personal bubble and looked at Lyn who had climbed up here. She was beautiful as ever under the moonlight...and I nearly had to punch myself in the stomach to not avoid swooning in her presence. She had the same sacean outfit that she had always been wearing, although her hair was noticeably shorter.

 _She finally got herself a haircut...neat._

I took her hand and lifted her up to the platform so that her feet were flat and stable. She had her famed Mani Katti in its scabbard...and I knew that she was going to need it soon.

I'd need my lance as well. It was on the deck below held by Barthillas.

I said, "We need to stop preoccupying ourselves with escape and face reality. Engagement is inevitable. Tell everyone to ready for battle."

Sweat traveled down my brow. I may have overestimated our ability to stand our ground. A Sixty to Twenty disadvantage seemed a lot less intimidating in my head.

All of our forces were situated in a battle line facing the enemy. They did the same, with nothing but open sea separating our swords.

Although they had a numerical advantage, I knew on the outset they wouldn't be able to commit as many troops as they'd like. The boarding planks they were using were only a man wide, and they only had four in quantity. This was an ideal situation for us, as this will limit our fighting to one-on-one engagements. Given that seven of our number are combat veterans, our higher experience would allow us to stand our ground for some time.

But that's reliant on the presence of one-on-one engagements. Should the enemy open up multiple fronts of attack, we will surely be swarmed. That has to be avoided at all costs.

The slaver captain slammed his leg on the edge of his railing and jeered at our sailors. The air around him was filled with smoke...and it was filthy with his stench. Fortunately, the wind was blowing away from us so we weren't graced with its aroma.

Whitney and Yanden formed the center our battle line. Simon and Barthillas led the wings while Kent and Lyn reinforced our squishy center. Raven and I led a small force of reserves behind the line...much to Lyn's protests.

 _"Let me fight with you, Samuel! We work well together!"_

 _I rejected her proposal...and pointed at her waiting bodyguard._

 _"I love you but you need to stay with Kent at the center. Raven is a capable warrior...he's more than qualified to protect me..."_

The nomadic girl was still pouting by her red knight. Kent was silently gazing at the enemy with his sword in hand. Perhaps he was silently contemplating whether or not he should have had his horse back in Badon. Fighting on horseback would have given him an advantage, even if maintaining the animal in a ship was tedious.

Whitney raised her rapier in the air...catching the attention of everyone on board.

She exclaimed, "Stand your ground men! We will not allow ourselves to be defeated by simple slavers! Prepare yourselves! The enemy is dropping the boarding platforms!"

Our sea of bustling pirates roared as they rallied around her. Our veterans waited intently as the battle was about to begin.

The boarding planks fell onto the railing hard. Grappling hooks were thrown into the masts, idle ropes, or any random crevice that would provide enough support to support a man's weight. A wave of enemy slavers engaged our front line in vicious combat, and I found myself in a vulnerable situation. The men that had arrived by the grappling hook route were now behind our main force. I'm going to have to commit our reserves early.

I led my small band of pirates into the fray just in time to witness Barthillas send an enemy several feet into the air. The poor man crashed into the water...and it became clear he could not swim. His mate behind him cowered behind Barthillas' mighty hammer.

I ducked as Raven parried an arrow aimed for my head. I waved him a gesture of thanks and then used the same hand to plant my lance into a man that was on Whitney's six. Kent was nearby busily taking on two slavers on his own, while Lyn was dancing between the slow soldiers and delivering precise, deadly strikes. I spotted Simon's wing flexing back towards the center, and I sent half of our reserves to help him.

The fighting was short but brutal. No magic users were present (much to my relief), and the battle was dominated with hand-to-hand combat. Enemy arrows flew in the air, but they quickly went silent as our archers dispatched them. Simon and Barthillas soon found themselves able to win in their fronts and used their heavy armor to their advantage. The center was a bit more difficult, but Kent became the most important soldier there. He tanked blow after blow like some type of superhuman experiment, much to the amazement of our lightly-armored sailors. As impressive that this may seem...I knew that this wasn't enough to ride us to a victory. Noticeable puddles of blood accumulated where our knights stood.

We needed to end this fight quickly. We would lose in a prolonged engagement.

Before I could think of a game-breaking plan, however, something caught my eye. The enemy captain looked a pit bull ordering his posse. He had a silver object held by a gold chain around his neck. I had to stop and catch my breath when I realized what it was.

It was my pocket watch.

 _That bastard's wearing my stuff!_

He wasn't even wearing it correctly...it's called a _pocket watch for a reason..._

 **Then I felt it. The same uncontrollable feeling that had led me to defy that blasted emperor back in Carazan. It was nothing but pure, raw, unbridled rage.**

How...dare this man wear my most prized possession like a trophy! Filthy trash like him should be content with adorning his body with the fleas that infest his. No...this man symbolizes the very people that ruined lives, abused innocents, and separated families. He's heartless...no different than a hyena turning on its own for nourishment. He didn't bat an eye when he threw Lumina and I into the darkness below deck. Or when he sold us to equally vile businessmen.

 **He's the root of all of Lumina's problem. Greed has never been so personified in one being...**

 **He's going to pay for his crimes. BY MY HAND!**

I broke rank and grabbed Barthillas by the collar. Grabbing his hammer with one hand and an enemy sailor on the other...he was powerless to shake me off. I had effectively received his attention.

I said, "Throw me."

Flabbergasted, he responded, "Throw you? Have you gone insane?"

 **"Are you questioning my orders?! Throw me you undersized grizzly bear!"**

Without hesitation, Barthillas tossed the enemy overboard. He grabbed me firmly by my arm and swung my small body like a trebuchet across the chasm of blue water. Everyone looked at me with amazement as I was heading towards the enemy captain like a cruise missile. I extended my lance in front of me to form the literal spearhead of my attack.

SNAP!

Barthillas had thrown me with so much force that when my lance impacted the captain's chest it disintegrated. Shrapnel of low-quality steel and wood flew into the air. Copious amounts of blood that wasn't mine soaked my clothes red.

The attack was powerful that the blow popped my shoulder out of its socket. In addition, the lance's shaft had punctured straight through the slaver's body, pinning him to one of the masts like a stake would go a vampire. The slaver crew went eerily silent as the captain groaned in pain.

With the sin of wrath still running through me, I went up to the man who now had some faint lines of smoke leaving his beard. He was breathing slowly, and could not mount any sort of defense in what I was about to do.

 **"Give me back what you stole from me you bastard!"**

I ripped my silver pocket watch from his next. The relatively fragile gold chain shattered into hundreds of pieces, with some of it escaping through the floor and into the deck below. I triumphantly lifted that heirloom into the air; with my teeth clenching so hard that I didn't notice my bleeding tongue underneath them. I felt like a vein in my forehead was about to burst...but I didn't care. I had gotten what I wanted...and I wasn't done yet.

I turned around towards the now terrified crew. My eyes were seething with bloodlust, and my need for revenge had not yet be satisfied. I drew my red dagger...

This was it. I'm going to kill every slaver on this ship.

 **They will pay for what they did to Lumina.**

 _ **A:** Yes...give in to your hate. Allow these dark emotions to consume you._

A small man whom I took for the crew's first mate threw himself to the floor begging for mercy. I recognized him as the man that fed us maggot filled hardtack while jeering at our misfortune. Thanks to this douchebag I was stricken with dysentery for several days.

I approached the first mate and punched him across the face. Then I did it again. The crowd around me gasped as the deck became slippery with the first mate's blood.

I had a devilish smile across my face.

 **It felt good.**

 **So good.**

 **I didn't want to stop.**

 **The power was intoxicating. The revenge felt sweeter than the finest nectar.**

 **But I had to.**

Because it was at that moment that I realized I had become the monster I had sworn to destroy.

I looked down on the husk of a man I had beaten senseless. He had broken bones...and his eyes reflected silent pleas for mercy.

This man has suffered enough. It was not my place to judge him or these slavers for their actions.

It was the place of the government of Badon. Slavery is illegal there...so the people will see that these slavers see justice.

I walked away from him and broke through the crowd of slavers. They let me pass through effortlessly, and I returned to Whitney's crew. To my benefit, they had heard the commotion but hadn't seen my outburst. The looked at me with wonder and curiosity in how I could have ended a battle with one strategic move.

Granted, I hadn't intended for it be that way. It was a move I took out of demonically influenced passion, but it'd be better if they didn't see it that way. I had to keep up the facade that everything was alright...only Elimine knows what would happen if they thought I was unstable.

I said, "Put them to d- I mean they've agreed to terms. The battle is over, we have emerged victorious. I have negotiated their unconditional surrender."

Everyone's face lit up. A volley of cheers filled the air, and my nerves began to feel at ease. The beckoning whispers of Azazel had quieted.

For now.

We tied up the rest of the slavers and rescued the slaves incarcerated in the hull. We brought them on board and fed them the best meal we could provide (nothing more than hard bread and soggy soup). Despite the low quality of the meal, I could see some life return to these people. Their fates had been stolen from them...but now it was back in their hands.

"Excuse me, sir..."

It was a voice among the crowd. It sounded young, and about my age.

"Hmm?"

I turned to look at one of the slaves we had rescued. We were on deck, and she had an empty bowl of broth in her hands. She was still wearing the primitive slave rags the men of this ship had given to her, and I noticed her hands were heavily calloused. She had short hair, though weirdly it was bicolor with light purple sprawling from the crown of her head, and light blue visible at the strands' tips. Her skin was fair, and her accent suggested she was Illian in origin.

 _Must be a war prisoner. Don't see a lot of those around._

She stood up but had done so too quickly. She nearly fell onto the floor, though luckily I was able to catch her.

I said, "Woah! Are you alright?"

She nodded her head, but to my surprise, she didn't regain her step. Looking towards her feet, I noticed her right foot was completely gone with a simple prosthetic in its place.

She said, "Pardon my clumsiness mister. I lost my foot in a routine patrol a few weeks back. For a while, I thought I'd lose my freedom as well."

She politely stood on her own two feet and bowed. For a moment, I was concerned she'd fall over again.

Flustered, I said, "Now now...you don't have to do that."

She replied, "Yes I do. I can't offer much, but please let me personally offer you my utmost thanks..."

I accepted the young lady's gratitude and took to the rest of my duties. Oddly, I never heard her name.

Nor did she hear mine.

* * *

Afterward, we took the still intake slaver ship and put half of our crew on it to follow us on our journey back to Badon. The plan was (as suggested by Simon) that the ship was to be sold and the proceeds given to the slaves so that they could have some money to either get home or start their new lives. Some of the slaves still had homes to go to, while others had their entire support network wiped out.

As for me, the slavers are so terrified of me that I've become their new Voldemort. They won't mention me by name much less spread rumors of me.

Well...it helps when you kill their leader in front of your eyes. It's also not bad when you threaten them with torture from time to time. A healthy amount of fear and ferocity never hurt anybody.

But popping your shoulder out of its socket did.

POP!

Lyn's otherwise tender grasp of my arm jerked back. I yelped like a dog getting hit with a stick, and nearly jumped from my laid-down position.

Lyn had an expression of annoyance across her face.

She said, "Why do you always get yourself hurt Samuel? For someone whose supposed to be intelligent, you make a lot of dumb decisions!"

She pulled my arm back even further even though it had already been returned to its original location. Although I had been put under worse duress before, there was a sense of wickedness in the way she twisted my muscles that melted any defense I could mount.

"Ugh..."

She loosened her grip on me and I was able to catch my breath. I lifted myself from my figurative tomb and made a beeline for the exit.

Lyn exclaimed, "Oh no you don't! I'm not done with you yet! Not after you broke your promise!"

That purple blur put herself between herself and the exit of the doctor's quarters we were borrowing. Somehow, the wind she displaced doing so didn't send the old man's stuff flying into the air. She had a wooden sword in her right hand.

I squealed, "What promise?!"

She shot back, "How could you forget already? I told you a few months ago that you weren't going to needlessly expose yourself to the enemy again. As your humble sword, I shall take it upon myself to administer punishment."

I shrank a couple of inches. I broke into a cold sweat.

I quivered, "W-What do you have in m-mind?"

Lyn had a mischievous grin on her face. With a commanding slam, she threw a lance shaft onto the ground below me.

She said, "You and I are going to spar. Outside. With everybody watching."

 **M:** FUCK!

 _A: Hahahahaha!_

 **M:** This is your fault!

 _ **A:** Is it really though?_

My bones were bruised beyond comprehension. Every step forward felt like I had taken on an increasing amount of weight. My weapon had cracks and fractures all over it from the sheer amount of force this woman had applied to it. I had laid my battered body against the railing of our ship.

I had lost the sparring match...and handily. The entire crew had stopped whatever they were doing to see the spectacle; of me losing to someone I had about 40 lbs on. I had become the butt of so many jokes thanks to that fact...although I couldn't understand why I deserved such treatment. Lyn could literally disappear for moments at a time to deliver a blow, and I had nothing in my arsenal to punish that behavior. Not in this form at least.

God forbid I ever take that state with her around.

"Greetings Samuel! A pleasure to see you're taking a post-beatdown rest. Man...when she picked you up and slammed you on the ground..."

I recognized the voice belonging to Simon. I never took the man as being so ignorant with societal customs that he'd feel comfortable bringing up such a painful memory so soon. I swear there's something in the knight's code that forbids that right?

I replied coldly, "Shut up."

Simon laughed and patted me on the back.

He said, "I'm only teasing you! I'd never purposely ridicule you at much expense tactician. Then again...the technique she used to bring you down in only 40 seconds is admirable..."

I stood up from my place and ignored my still sore muscles.

I said, "If you're just going to make fun of me then I'll be taking my leave then. Good day to you sir knight."

I took a step away from Simon and towards the crowd that had gathered on the other end of the deck. But before I could take another Simon grabbed me by the arm.

I said, "What do you want? You have my attention."

Simon's demeanor changed. It was much more serious and less jovial then I was used to. It was clear he meant business.

He said, "Keep this a secret. I'm willing to offer you a proposition."

I replied, "A proposition? What could a lowly Illian knight such as yourself offer me? Y'all can barely afford to feed your own people."

Simon shook his head and put his hand around my ear so nobody could hear what he was about to say.

"Simon isn't my real name. My real name is Zelot, leader of Barigan's Fist. The oldest and most powerful mercenary guild in Illia."


	32. Calming Tides

**Chapter 28: Calming Tides**

 **By SodiumChloride12, derived from Fire Emblem, owned by Nintendo.**

 **A/N: I'll be buying Three Houses soon, and I'm thinking about maybe making a series for that. Through my brainstorming I was thinking about setting it up to where an alternate version of Samuel is sent there instead of Elibe. If y'all have any suggestions feel free to PM me...but otherwise I'll be spending the next 2-3 weeks brainstorming. If I do choose to write a series for Three Houses then SOMAB will have to go biweekly.**

 **A/N: Finally decided to write some fluff. Turns out I can't even do that without including some dark undertones. Oof.**

* * *

The deck swayed slowly with the small waves. Seagulls extended their long white wings above our ship, and their cries reminded us of the approaching land. Dolphins danced and pranced as they raced by the sides of the ship, with their merriment rubbing off on all that gazed on them. Everything was calm and dandy...save for the situation I found myself in.

"Simon isn't my real name. My real name is Zelot, leader of Barigan's Fist. The oldest and most powerful mercenary guild in Illia."

Si- I mean Zelot had his hand wrapped tightly against my arm. The grip was impossible to escape, yet it was discreet enough to not attract the attention of the other crew members. This interaction was clearly planned out by the Illian knight.

Despite the seriousness in his voice...that name didn't ring any bells.

I said, "Who?"

Zelot loosened his grip and pretended like he didn't just get his feelings hurt. It was obvious they were.

Zelot replied, "You haven't heard of me?"

I said, "I don't really know much about places that aren't in Sacae or Lycia. My knowledge about this world and its power players are lacking. Please forgive me."

That much was true anyway. I had a general knowledge of the monarchies that rule this continent but I was no expert. I suspect that eventually, my lack of knowledge in the social norm will land me in some hot water.

Fortunately now wasn't one of those times.

Zelot said, "No it's no problem at all. But let's not wander from the topic at hand. The fact of the matter is that you have certain talents that could be invaluable with us. Your line of thinking is centuries ahead of other tacticians on the continent."

 _Well...that's probably because I'm from a world that is centuries ahead._

I raised my hands defensively, "Woah there! I'm by now means the amazing field general that you just described. I feel like I've been winning these battles by accident honestly."

Zelot dismissed my claim.

He calmly said, "If it wasn't for your cunning wit, we surely would still be stuck in Carazan by now. Sure, your temper could be worked on...but you're by far the most experienced tactician on the market right now. No tactician can currently say they've led a force the size that you had."

To be fair, not many tacticians get an opportunity to do that. In this era of relative peace, most engagements didn't involve more than 1000 troops.

I said, "Literally all I did was make sure our troops had the supplies they needed to fight. If anything that makes me more of a logistician than a tactician."

Zelot replied, "But that's just it! The tacticians we develop in our academies are so focused on the combat aspect of the battle that they don't focus on the finer points of an army. In addition, your combat ability is quite admirable. Your ability with a lance..."

At the mention of that last statement, I immediately lost interest.

 _Lances beat swords._

I said, "You just saw me lose to my girlfriend in a fight I had a weapons advantage in."

Zelot said, "Well..."

I said, "I'm sorry but I'm already on contract with a separate employer. If I ever find myself needing new employment, then I'll be happy to shoot you a call."

I walked away and left Zelot there near the bow. He was empty-handed, but at the very least he'd be home soon.

He was alone...and he contemplated what the tactician had just said to him.

He muttered, "What does he mean by...shoot you a call?"

* * *

I gave Raven a firm handshake. The strength he exerted in my hand was equally as respective as mine, and our gazes unwavering.

I said, "I guess this is goodbye."

We were outside of Whitney's ship in Port Badon. The crew was discreetly stowing away the treasured goods at a secret warehouse nearby. Whitney was busy bossing them around, while Yanden had already disappeared.

I still remember what Whitney told me when we first noticed his absence...

 _"He probably went off to the brothel again. That man could never satisfy himself with just one woman. Not even me..."_

Barthillas had run off to go find him, but since Badon has about a dozen different brothels in town, that was going to be some task...

Raven nodded silently and turned away. His friend, Simon, had already left the moment our ship took port. Now that Raven was free, it was time for him to take the next step in his life.

I asked, "What do you plan on doing Raven? More mercenary work?"

Raven shook his head, "Yes...but during this journey I realized something. When we were fighting the Sword Demon and that assassin back in Missur, I was powerless to do anything. If I'm going to succeed in the goal that I set for myself in life...then I'm going to have to become stronger. Much stronger. But I can't do it alone. I have an old friend I think it's time I met up with again. I'm not sure where he is, but I'm certain he's looking for me as well."

I tilted my head, "That sounds honorable...but do you mind if I ask you what your goal is? I hope you are not trying to gain power for power's sake."

He waved away my comment, "Don't trouble yourself with my life. I'm certain we'll never see each other again. Let's just...pretend we never met each other tactician."

I replied, "Now you know that's something I can't do. Do you think Lumina would forgive me if I acted like that?"

Raven smiled and looked away at the sky...then back at me. We were reminiscing about the person we both respected in our lives.

He said, "Ah...you'd be right about that. Nevertheless...this is my own business. Please respect that."

I replied, "Fair enough. See you around Raven. I'm glad to have met you."

Raven said, "Likewise."

Then Raven walked away...disappearing past the buildings that were further away from the coast. Even though Raven was never the beacon of positivity I may have enjoyed being around 24/7, he was a reliable fighter. I wouldn't go as far as to say that we were friends, but I wish him the best in all of his future endeavors. Lumina would have wanted that.

I felt a small tug on my arm from an unseen angle. Turning around to face it, I was rewarded with the beaming face of the most beautiful person in the world. My love, my sword, my world...the myrmidon Lyn.

I noticed that she had changed her clothes to something more casual. It was a simple light green Lycian gown that went down to her knees. Underneath, she still sported her favorite boots that granted her so much mobility. Her trusty sword was still fixed to her waist.

It was almost like we were going out on a date...oh wait...

My face went red hot.

Lyn's smile was warm enough to melt steel. I could feel all the sorrow I had suffered in the past few months begin to melt away.

Still grasping my arm, she asked, "Hey Samuel...it's been a while since we had some proper time alone right?"

I'd never been on a date before! Well...I might have in my old life but any memory of it had evaporated with a concussive hit a long time ago. I don't know how to act! Or how to take into account Lyn's different sacaen customs! Do they treat dating differently? I know some people here will just straight up get married and then learn about each other later! Oh, the-

 _Shit, I've been wading in my thoughts for too long! I need to give her an answer!_

I said, "Yeah...it has. Not since the battle with your grand uncle..."

She smiled again...and this time she put her arm around my shoulder.

She said, "Have any plans?"

I replied, "No I don't. I did just get here."

She laughed. Then she blushed. My face looked like a tomato when I reciprocated.

She looked at me again with her piercing green eyes. I felt like I could faint right there on the spot.

She said, "Then it's settled then. Let's go on a date."

I cocked my head back and a fountain of blood erupted from my nostrils. Lyn was obviously shocked by the gesture...but my nerves had gotten the best of me. Lyn would later explain to me that in the Lorca tribe it was usually the women that would ask men out on the first date, not vice versa like in the states.

This was everything I could've wanted. Paradise after a trip through hell.

* * *

Yanden tripped as he stumbled out through the door. His thick copper hair fell onto his face like seaweed in the ocean floor, and it obscured most of it. His armor was lazily attached to his body, although he was obviously missing a shin guard. His twin blades were still with him however...and in the grander scheme of things that's all that mattered.

The pirate's breath reeked with alcohol and other questionable substances. His neck and arms were covered with kisses that were colored coral blue lipstick number two...the signature color of the women in this specific brothel. It was Yanden's favorite brothel in Badon...the _Coral Unicorn_.

Having had his darkest...most pent up desires satisfied...the young man decided now was the best time to take a nap. Not at a reasonable place like a nearby inn, but rather beside the disposal bin outside the establishment. That way, if he throws up due to his uneasy stomach then he can avoid making a mess of himself.

He walked over to the disposal bin to see a young blue-haired girl keeled over it already. She was vomiting a vivid rainbow liquid into it, while her brown-haired friend was keeping her hair up. Through his drunken haze, he could hear the friend grumpily scold the young lady for her actions.

"For a self-proclaimed goddess you even can't handle your alcohol. What a fool...you're completely useless."

Upset that his chosen spot was stolen from him, he considered manhandling these people for it. He grasped the hilt of his sword to draw it out...but it didn't budge.

A few years ago his mother had the hilt of the sword seen by a prominent mage and given a strong situational enchantment. It was a spell specifically made for his...rather impulsive decisions. The enchantment reads the amount of alcohol in Yanden's blood through his skin...and if it reaches a certain level relative to his weight than he can't draw it. Yanden has reached that level a long time ago.

 _Damn it!_

Yanden grumbled and began stumbling away. It looks like he'll be using that hotel room after all. Hopefully, he doesn't run into...

"Yanden! There you are!"

Barthillas.

Yanden raised his collar closer to his face in a vain attempt to blend in with the crowd. The red-light district of Badon was full of party-goers and merchants that were selling beverages and other commodities. He turned away towards one of these carts and pretended like he didn't recognize his own brother.

But his unique, unmistakable odor of booze was traceable for miles. The needle in the haystack morphed into a red raspberry in a blue soup. Barthillas approached Yanden, knocking away barely-conscious men in the process.

He grabbed his brother by the collar, the same one that he was trying to mask his identity with. Yanden squirmed and made a big fuss...but his drunkenness has greatly hindered most of his ability to resist. Some of the sober merchants had concerned expressions across their faces, while the drunken bystanders could care less. None of them did anything...it was common for men like Yanden to disappear to the likes of impressment gangs, regular gangs, or loan sharks.

Yanden protested, "Let me go damn it!"

Barthillas laughed and began making his way south towards the port. Yanden was powerless to stop him.

Barthillas said, "This is no way a noble should act! As your younger brother, it is my duty to put you back in a state that will allow you to think clearly. Off to the hotel room! Sobriety is the way for kings!"

The pirate squirmed and punched the shoulder guards of Barthillas' armor, only to hurt himself in the process. He held his bruised fist in anger...but eventually set it down.

He resigned himself to his fate. One that unfortunately doesn't involve sleeping outside of his beloved _Coral Unicorn._

* * *

The cool sun seemed to act like a comforting blanket on my body. The distant chirps of birds and other wildlife brought a peaceful aura. The soothing sound of minstrels singing, along with a tooting flute allowed me to forget about all my worries.

 _I'm not going to lie...this is pretty alright._

Lyn and I were in an open-air area that made up an impromptu park in Badon. Families of common folk along with younger friend groups were busy enjoying the little free time they have from their working lives. People were playing little games like horseshoes, tag, and game ball (a predecessor of Rugby and American Football).

I contemplated joining a small group of men playing the latter...but I threw away that idea when I realized they weren't wearing helmets. Besides, what I was doing right now was much more enjoyable!

Our backs were rested against each other on a tree. I had my arm around her, while her head was resting on my shoulder. I was suffering a little discomfort due to some previous injuries I had endured there...but this moment was too good to pass up.

I hadn't had an opportunity to be alone with her since the final battle...much less go on a date. With this activity that we were on together, it could be said that our relationship was finally official.

I felt like I could fall asleep there...as our still bodies gazed towards the clouds. I looked down on Lyn's hair...and parts of it still had strands of green poking out from the purple. It wasn't noticeable from a distance and was only visible when one was as close as I was. I had an urge to use my hands to play with it...but cooler heads prevailed.

Lyn pointed out towards the sky. Her face reflected a youthful, playful demeanor.

She said, "Sam look! That cloud looks like a mother cradling its baby!"

My eyes obliged and looked towards that direction. As advertised, there was a large white motherly mass seemingly cradling a small white being in its arms. It brought up faint memories of my own mother, a woman whose name I had long forgotten.

I said, "Yeah...you're right."

Although I don't remember much about my mother, one thing was clear. Our relationship was close, but I couldn't understand why. The answer to that question had been lost along with their original pre-healed brain cells.

Her memory...or rather lack thereof was depressing. She formed the crown jewel of the support system I enjoyed in my old life, and now that she was gone I was left scrambling to fill the void. I reached out towards anyone that I felt that could...but no one could ever fill the hole left by a mother.

Nobody...not even Lyn.

"Honey...why do you look so sad?"

Through my contemplating, even Lyn was able to read my hidden pain. Even if it was light in magnitude, it was clear as day to her.

Somberly, I said, "I...I remember my mother. Not a whole lot...but just enough to know that we cared for each other very much. I...I miss her. So much..."

I felt Lyn tense up. It was clear that I had upset her.

I realized the irony in our situation. How could I be so ignorant? The fact I was mourning my mother even though I was the one that killed hers.

I've made a misstep. Perhaps even one that will cost me dearly.

I said, "Lyn...I'm so sorry. I didn't...I don't..."

Lyn pushed me away so that we were some distance away from each other. She had her arms wrapped tightly around herself as if replicating the embrace of her own mother.

I looked away from her and gazed back at the clouds. I was lost for words...and I felt I could do nothing to lift this burden from her. As a tactician, I was used to strategizing ways we could win a battle. But thing was, no strategy could win this war that Lyn was fighting within herself. A war that was far too close to home.

Breaking the silence, Lyn said, "Samuel...can I be honest with you?"

I replied, "Always...even if it hurts my feelings."

Lyn cleared her throat...it was obvious she had chosen these next few words carefully. She still did not initiate eye contact.

She said, "Samuel...I want revenge."

The hairs on the back of my next stood up. I didn't know what I was supposed to feel when she said that. Scared? Sympathetic?

To my relief she didn't immediately go for her sword. Not that I could do anything if she chose to cut me down right here.

I asked, "Lyn...are you going to..."

Lyn shook her head quickly. Luckily for me, she did not intend to harm me.

She said, "N-No don't get the wrong idea. I don't harbor any ill-feeling towards you, but my heart still yearns for justice against the people that have taken so much from me. My tribe...my parents."

She slowly drew her Mani Katti and placed the tip of its blade over my heart. My breathing intensified...but I stood firm. I remembered something that Rath had mentioned to me a long time ago.

 _Sacaens never go back on their word. Never._

Her eyes looked like they were in a trance, and they contained a fire that brighter than even the sun.

I absolutely feared for my life.

She said, "I want to go to the Taliver and personally kill every single member of that gang of bandits. They don't deserve a quick death...I'd make it my mission to draw every ounce of misery from their bodies. Only when those monsters cry out for the mercy of death with I slay them...and then I'll burn their camp to the ground as a grim reminder to anyone that ever tries to follow in their footsteps..."

She gave a faint smile. One that greatly contrasted to the warmth she had earlier.

It was borderline evil.

She added, "Finally, I'd rip that demon right from your body. I'll tear him apart with this very sword, and I'll use the blood he spills as a beverage the following morning. Only once he, and the Taliver are annihilated from the face of the earth...will I consider my revenge complete."

"They will pay for what they did to my tribe."

She said that with so much volition and hatred that for a moment I couldn't recognize the girl sitting next to me. She had an aura to her that was a dark as night...it contrasted greatly with the beacon of righteousness I was used to.

An autumn leaf fell from the tree above us. It landed gracefully onto her sunburned hands, and in an instant, she was burst from her trance. She looked around for a second like a lost child...and then her eyes widened with stricken horror. She realized what she had just done.

She dropped her sword onto the floor, and it did so with an unforgettable muffled, metallic twang. She stood up and took a step back, with her hand over her heart. Anxious beads of sweat began forming above her forehead, and she spoke in a quick, hurried voice.

She said, "S-Samuel! I'm so sorry! I got to carried away and got lost in my own thoughts...I shouldn't have..."

I replied, "Is it because we share the same body Lyn?"

She nodded her head and dug herself into her arms. Her hair formed a veil-like barrier around her eyes. Her posture reflected a sense of shame.

She said, "I have something else to confess."

"What else?"

She said, "I wasn't being completely honest with you the other day. When I challenged you to spar...my purpose wasn't to discipline you for your recklessness. I had...my own selfish motivations. I wanted an excuse to hurt the demon that killed my parents. Even if only a little. I felt terrible after I gave you all those bruises...but still..."

"When I slammed you into the ground, I couldn't help but give a small smile. When I hit your ribs...I had to hold back the temptation to laugh. When you were defenseless on the floor...I had my Mani Katti put away so that I couldn't deliver the final blow. I...I..."

"I enjoyed it."

We surrounded by silence...with neither party not knowing how to proceed forward. For Lyn...it was in part to her shame associated with her want for revenge. As for me, I was in utter shock. Not for Lyn's desire for revenge...but at the fact she had allowed that desire to consume her. It was like a plague to her being, infecting every ounce of good in her and affecting her actions. This was not a path I was comfortable seeing her going down.

I said, "Lyn...you're filled with hate. You've allowed your vengeful lust to consume you."

Lyn said nothing. She just continued looking towards the ground...at the idle autumn leaves.

I said, "You understand that this path is wrong for you, correct? It does nothing but add fuel to the primordial cycle of pain and misery. No good can come from this."

Her response took an eternity to come out. It was clear to me that she wanted some time to think.

Somberly, she replied, "Funny...that's exactly what Wallace said to me."

I was immediately reminded of the old general that used to be in our army. My first casualty.

 _Wallace...does he have to do with Lyn?_

Lyn wiped her hair from her face...allowing it to come into view. She looked out towards the sky as if that old general was looking down on us from there.

She said, "Prior to the battle with my grand uncle, Wallace and I shared lunch together. Originally, we spoke about my mother, as the general had been there for most of her adolescence and I was curious about her upbringing. But eventually, the topic came to how I felt about her and my father's death, and our conversation came to a similar form that we have now. Wallace said to me this..."

"I will not allow your revenge to take away your humanity. I will make sure of it."

She turned again towards me...and our eyes met for the first time since it initially broke.

"I never understood what he meant. But whatever he intended to do is buried with him six feet underground."

 _Wallace...what did he want to do? I don't think I'll ever know._

 _But I can't let his mission die with him._

I said, "No it isn't."

Lyn looked at me skeptically. It was clear she didn't believe me.

I said, "I don't know how Wallace intended to do it...but I'll do it. I'll help you preserve your humanity."

Lyn said, "What are you talking about?"

I cleared my throat, "Lyn...revenge is a terrible thing. My parents came from a country that was ruled by it. They used to live in a little, rural mountain village where they subsisted as ranchers. However, one day one of the villagers killed the brother of a powerful man. When that powerful man discovered that his villager came from my parent's village, he sent some gangsters to bring the man in. The gangsters arrived and questioned our village about the man...but no one would give him up. Everyone was like a family there...and there was no way that they'd give up one of their own to some strangers."

Lyn asked, "What happened?"

"The gangsters opened f- I mean they drew their swords and cut down a dozen people. Then...they went into their homes and searched for the man. They beat up anybody that got in their way. By the time they found him...he had already taken his own life by way of a makeshift noose he had constructed with his belt."

"The gangsters left the village...but the villagers were angry. How dare they come and violate our lands they argued. Something had to be done...and it was. One of the villagers had a cousin who had enough...and so he got some of his friends to travel to the city. They located the powerful person and gun- stabbed him in broad daylight...for all the public to see on the street. The village thought that would be the end of it...but it was further from the truth."

"It only got worse."

"The gang wanted revenge. They'd send another group of men to achieve just that, and afterward, a village vigilante would kill another gang leader. It eventually devolved into a never-ending cycle of blood and hate...and it forced my parents to flee their home. But they soon found out that they couldn't even stay in the country...as the gang had set a bounty on their heads for any hitman to cash out. Thus...they fled and went north...and I was born a year later."

By the time I was finished Lyn was patiently listening, with her head slightly tilted in curiosity.

She said, "That's terrible...I can't imagine how fearful your parents were."

I nodded my head, "Yes...but that's beside the point. The main thing to take away from this is that sometimes actions can have unintended consequences...especially with something as delicate as vengeance. You may want to avenge your people...but what happens to your morality? Do two wrongs make a right?"

Lyn was lost in thought. It was clear that what I had said to her had a profound impact on her.

But she wasn't ready to shake from her desires so easily.

Respectfully, she said, "I appreciate your concern...but as long as the Taliver still roam people will continue to suffer. You can't deny that."

I reached out and touched her shoulder. Her face went slightly red.

I said, "But you also can't deny your intentions. Take a wrong step, and you may find that you've become the very monster you've sworn to destroy."

She shook her head softly, "You're underestimating my fortitude, Samuel. I don't think we can come to an agreement on this..."

It was no use. She wasn't willing to let go of the hatred that was enveloping her heart. I wasn't going to able to change her mind. At least not right now.

I sighed and lifted my hand from her shoulder.

I said, "Very well...at the very least promise me this. Promise that when you go to exact your revenge you won't do it alone. Please...I'll go with you..."

Part of the reason I was so reluctant to allow Lyn to avenge her people was that Lyn was the type of person to got at this sort of thing alone. I am very much aware what these people would do to her if she were to do that...and Lumina was a prime example. I didn't want what happened to Lumina to happen to her...or worse. I don't what I'd do with myself if Lyn was sold into slavery or killed.

Lyn had a reassuring smile across her face. She took my hand...

She said, "You don't have to worry about that. Remember what you and the knights promised months ago? You guys promised you'll be by my side then."

I nodded my head in agreement. Even if I don't agree with Lyn's motives, I can at least rest well knowing that she has us to protect her.

With my mind, her sword, and the knight's lances...who could stop us?

I said, "Yes...as promised I'll be there. My word is as good as gold."

She pulled my hand in and we embraced in a wholesome hug. The warmth of her body shook away all of the uncertainty I had pent up within me, and I took a moment to enjoy her womanly charm. I...

I lived for moments like these.

We fell onto the soft grass and stayed there for a while. For how long...I wasn't sure. All that I did know was that I lost track of time...and any sense of the people around us. The only person I cared about was the lady laying nearby.

Perhaps I should've had more awareness of my environment.

"Excuse me sir, are you alright?"

I poked my head above Lyn's shoulder to see a small mob of people that had gathered a short distance away. Most were young men in the late teens to early twenties, and I recognized them as a group of Badonese that had been playing game ball nearby. Their bodies were covered with nasty bruises and other injuries from the sport. A strong, tall man with brown hair that I took as the team captain had been the one that spoke to me.

I asked, "Whatever do you mean kind sir?"

The captain said, "Well...it's just that we were playing when we saw this lady put a sword above your chest. She really looked like she was about to kill you. Are you safe?"

One of the men in the crowd had a large stick in his grasp, while another had a long dagger behind his back. In addition to outnumbering us...they were also several weight classes above us. Not like that would matter to Lyn, she'd be able to take them all on in a heartbeat. But I needed to clear the air.

So I came up with a lie on the spot.

I said, "Yeah I'm safe. We were practicing a part for a play you see...er... _The_ _Princess Bride_."

The crowd had a puzzled expression across their faces.

 _They don't know what I'm talking about...do they?_

A man in the rear of the mob raised his hand. He had a chipped tooth, and a funny green hat on his head. He spoke like he'd spent his entire life smoking cigarettes.

He said, "So you're an actor eh? Prove it then. I could go for some free entertainment."

Another man, who had a similar build except he had a cleft chin, agreed.

He said, "Ya ya! Get your lady friend in on it too! I haven't been to the theatre in ages mate!"

I broke into a cold sweat, and my mind began to race. I was getting too deep into the lie I was not prepared to back up. Looking over at Lyn, the young lady had gone pearly white. She had never acted in her life...much less had the necessary theatrics to fool even a toddler.

 _Granted...neither do I._

Quickly, I remembered the flamboyant, artistic behavior the cringe theatre kids [sorry theatre kids] exemplified in their high school performances.

Running off my gut, I grabbed Lyn's sword and pointed it towards her heart. Somehow, the Mani Katti still judged me worthy to carry it...even after all this time.

I wiped all emotion from my face...and my eyes laid fixated at my faux opponent. With the Mani Katti in my hand, I felt a surge of confidence travel through my body. I could sense Lyn feeding off this confidence as well, and a red color returned to her face. Her eyes transformed back to the fearsome ones I had seen before, and it was at this moment I realized that we were to spar before this audience.

I spoke with a polite inflection...no different than the one shared by nobles like Eliwood.

"Hello. My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die..."

* * *

 **Later...**

I took a long swig from the golden beverage I had in my mug. The liquid had a bitter, ugly taste to it...and it resembled gym socks. But it was cheap and fermented, so I continued coating my throat with the liquid courage. Perhaps that could make me forget about my shame.

"How did you lose? She didn't have the advantage of using a sword in that bout and had to wield your lance. You even had that divine blade in your possession but you still couldn't win...

Well, on the bright side at least this time you actually managed to hit her. Even if she still had you on the ground within seconds..."

 _At least Lyn didn't get a kick out of it this_ time.

I was at a bar just outside our inn at downtown Badon that evening. The bar was mostly empty since Badon's ports were in the middle of a slow season. But still, some local towns folks occupied some of the surrounding seats, and their chatter helped block out some of my companion's chatter.

Yanden's eyes were red like he'd been taking a nap for several hours. His breathing had a faint stench of alcohol, and his clothes were stained with dirt. He looked terrible but well-rested.

Perhaps retiring for the night would do me some good.

I got up to leave, but as my foot hit the ground I felt something my ankle give in. Before my face impacted the ground, Yanden managed to catch me.

He took one good look at my drink. It was empty.

He said, "I think you've had too much to drink Samuel. You've lost your step."

"Urmpf."

Yanden smiled. It wasn't often that I'd drink, but when I did I'd often make a fool of myself. Whether that be crappy singing or the dispelling of an embarrassing secret.

But it was his job to prevent that. He'd do well to honor his agreement with the tactician. It was time to go home.

Before he could begin guiding me back to my inn room though, he had to take care of something first.

He sat me down on a stool nearby, and he took great care not to assert any weight on my bad ankle. Had my stomach not been filled with booze I likely would have been screaming in pain by then.

He said, "I've gotta go hit the can, Samuel. After that, we can go home."

"Uh huh..."

I looked on stupidly as he walked away. The area around me looked like a haze right now, and any sound felt like a doughy snowball rubbing against my face.

Even if the ale tasted like absolute garbage, at least it'll let my mind wander for awhile.

I heard a voice come from a blind spot. It sounded sweet and thick, like molasses. I had an instinct to obey it.

"Why hello there mister. How are you doing today?"

It was feminine. Looking up at the woman she had a large cloak disguising her identity, but I could still make out some vile purple eyes and purple hair. They did not belong to Lyn.

I muttered, "Alright...I guess."

The voice continued on. I felt powerless to ignore her beckoning.

She said, "You're the masked mercenary correct? Can you make this girl happy and answer some questions for me?"

I agreed without hesitation. Her eyes glowed purple and I felt magic's influence cloud my rationality.

She asked, "What's your real name? Who is your father?"

With a blank face, I replied, "My name is Samuel Castillo. My father is Juan Sanchez Castillo."

The woman's right eye twitched. That was not the answer she was expecting.

She said, "No, what's your _real_ name. Is it not Azazel? Is your father not Nergal?"

I replied, "The answer I gave you is truthful."

The woman winced her eyes completely. It was apparent that she was a stone's throw away from getting angry.

She said, "I've had enough with you. Do not waste my time. What do you have to hide behind that mask?"

I replied, "A bunch of scars."

The demon inside of me laughed. Although it the truth spell that the woman was using was working...it was no match for my sharp wit and half-truths. Technically, the answer I had given her _was_ the truth.

Enraged, the woman reached her hand out towards my mask to pull it, but before she could a leather hand stopped her. It belonged to none other than my friend Yanden.

He said sternly, "Mind if I ask what's going on here?"

The lady took a step back and dug into her robe for something. Yanden cleared his throat and allowed her gaze to fall upon his twin black blades. She slowly lifted her hand away from her garb, and I noted how they lacked any magical tome.

She said, "Nothing is going on. I mistook this young man here for an old acquaintance. I was just leaving."

Yanden replied, "Best get on your way then Milady."

The purple-haired mage did as she was told. She disappeared just as quickly as she came. The encounter had happened so quickly and discreetly that nobody in the bar had even batted an eye.

The mage's truth spell was beginning to wear off. A veil of clouds blew away from my consciousness, although alcohol's influence still reigned supreme.

Yanden asked, "What was that about?"

I replied, "I have no idea."

As I tucked myself to bed that night, I thought back on the mage that felt so comfortable to interrogate me. She had a vile aura to her...and although she was attractive she was most definitely someone I wouldn't be caught dead with. The way she carried herself suggested that she was a whole unseen degree of crazy.

Like a witch.


	33. The Fall Festival

**Chapter 29: The Fall Festival**

 **From SodiumChloride12, derived from Fire Emblem, owned by Nintendo.**

 **A/N: I've decided that I will be writing a new series based on Three Houses. It'll be set in an alternate universe where Samuel is sent to Fodlan instead of Elibe. This is where I'll need help from YOU. I'm unsure of what pairing I want to put together in the new series, so if you could spare about a minute of your day to participate in a poll I set up, I'd be the happiest man in the world!**

 **My personal preference is either Edelgard or Petra. It'll still be about a month till I start on it, but I like to brainstorm early. Seriously though, in the amount of time it took you to read this, you could have voted already. So what are you waiting for? If the average computer uses an average of 171 Watts of power per hour, then assuming the poll only takes you a minute, voting will only cost 2.85 Watts! That's 0.3% of the power YOU use per second (97.2 W). It literally takes more energy for you to contemplate your decision than to actually do it!**

 **Believe in the numbers! You can vote by finding it on my profile page!**

 **Okay, I'm done with the Game Theory now. I've been experimenting more with active and passive voice. Hope y'all like it!**

 **N: Samuel wakes up in the middle of night rocked with pains. Perhaps his dangerous lifestyle has finally caught up with him?**

* * *

 _Ughhhh..._

 _That doesn't feel...right._

 _Is something wrong with me?_

I look out towards the waxing moon by the window. Bright stars dotted the eternally dark sky.

 _What time is it?_

I wake up at night with a series of aches and pains disturbing my sleep. My body laid flat against my bed, and there wasn't any part of it where something didn't feel wrong. My neck felt like it had a knot inside of it, my stomach felt punctured, my head felt dizzy, and my joints were stiff. My shoulder was the worst of the bunch, and I had trouble moving it.

 _Are all those hits finally taking a toll on me? I hadn't felt this bad since high school ball..._

Back then I would just pop a few painkillers to make living bearable. But now, it seemed like a Tylenol just wouldn't do. I'd need something stronger. Much stronger than that. Perhaps an opiate would suffice.

I scoff at the idea.

 _Like I could get something like that. Medicine in this world hadn't progressed that far._

I considered going up to a cleric and asking her to heal the wounds for me. But problem is, healing only works for wounds that the body hadn't tended to yet. Since I had gathered all of these injuries without having the opportunity to get them tended by a professional; I was forced to allow my body to make a crude crack at it.

I wince as my back spasms. It did not do a good job. Now I was paying the consequences.

 _Eh...nothing I can do about it now. I should try to go back to sleep._

I turned over and attempted to do just that. But as time passed I couldn't. The pain was just too much of a nuisance. I began to worry that I would be too tired to make the trip back to Caelin in the morning.

[knock] [knock]

Startled, I open my eyes.

 _What was that?_

[knock] [knock]

 _Has the witch come back to get me?_

I slowly and painfully got up from my bedsheets. I lit a candle before I went up to the door, and when I arrived to it, I looked through the peephole.

It took me a second to make out the shape past the grime. But when I did, I raised my brow.

It was a woman. A little bit shorter than me, probably around 5" 8'. Her long, straight, purple-hair covered her face, obscuring it completely. She stood there silent, like a predator stalking its prey.

 _What the heck? She's not moving at all! How long has she been there?_

Her posture swayed back and forth. She said nothing, she did nothing, it was like she wasn't even there. Her breaths were barely audible.

Breaking the silence, she sneezed.

"Achoo!"

I bounced back several feet and banged up my ankle in my fearful leap. Had a done my morning stretches like I usually do, that might've been avoided.

Despite the added nuisance, I focused on the issue at hand. There was a purple-haired lady outside my door. A lady that more or less looked like that witch.

Or did she?

 _I've got to look again._

I returned to my door and looked at the woman again. As expected, her long purple locks were still visible under the torchlight. She continued standing there idly; oblivious to the fly dancing between the individual strands of her hair.

 _Hmm...that odd. Some of these strands of hair have green in them. I didn't notice them at first..._

 _Wait...now that I think about it...didn't that witch have relatively short hair?_

Then I remembered something. Something that was mentioned to me a long time ago.

 _Didn't someone say to me that she used to sleepwalk as a child?_

Then it hit me. The green hair. The long strands.

Oh.

The woman outside my door isn't that witch. It's Lyn.

I rushed over to my door and opened it. She continued standing there still, so I took the opportunity to wipe some of her hair away from her face.

It was Lyn. There's no doubt about it now.

Now that I knew who the girl was...I found myself with another predicament.

What do I do with her? What exactly were you supposed to do with a sleepwalker?

 _I think I remember reading somewhere that I was supposed to ease her back to bed right? Or was I supposed to wake her up?_

But in my lack of action, Lyn did not have cold feet. She took a step forward, and she was now in my room.

Then she took another, and now she was an inch from me.

In my confusion, I froze up. She took another, and our bodies were touching. I was beginning to take on her weight in addition to my own...

My banged up ankle was unable to provide enough support for us both. Our frames rocked backward towards the ground. Instead of hitting the hardwood floor, we hit something soft instead. M bed. The fluffy pillows on it allowed us to land on them without much knockback.

I blinked. I looked down, and my girlfriend had her arms around me. Her blue pajamas fit in well with my blue blankets, and I could feel her heartbeat with every breath she took. She looked so peaceful, and her head was resting against my chest like it was her pillow.

"Zzzzzzzzz..."

I considered waking her...but I ultimately decided against it. The benefits of staying put far outweighed the drawbacks. Besides...it's not like I could walk her back at this state anyway. My hurt ankle made sure of that.

My body was in constant pain that night...but I soon found myself falling asleep with her by my side. What was a little pain to me right now? Relatively speaking, it was nothing. I'm...already...used to...it...

* * *

When I woke up that morning, Lyn was still asleep. The sun was beginning to rise, and a knocker-up (a guy whose job is to literally knock on people's doors to wake them up) was making his rounds around the inn. It was slightly chilly due to the autumn breeze, but any heat lost was gained back in the form of shared body heat. The noble nomad was still resting on my bare chest, with her smiling face suggesting she had good rest. Her arms were clinging onto me like a piece of velcro, and she was so close that I feel her breathing in smoothly. Her heartbeat was steady as well, a detail suggesting good health. Knowing that put my mind at ease.

I rub my ankle. Although it had healed a bit, I don't think I can reliably walk on it. I groaned as Lyn readjusted her head to where it was above my rib cage; which I had broken several weeks ago. I tried to move her to where I didn't feel so much pain, but my joints made me feel like an old man. It seemed like the pain hadn't subsided at all.

But still, despite the pleasant scenery and my deteriorating health, we were due to leave in a few minutes. No matter how peaceful Lyn looked I had to wake her up. I spoke with a hushed tone as to not wake her abruptly.

"Lyndis. Wake up. We gotta go."

"Urmf."

She didn't seem to notice. On top of that, she rolled over to where most of her body weight was resting on top of my shoulder. I felt a sharp dagger of pain, and it took me everything I had not to yelp.

 _She's a heavy sleeper huh?! Well if she's going to be that way..._

I took a deep breath.

 **"Lyn! Wake up!"**

I expected her to jolt out of her slumber. Rather, she gracefully opened her eyes and gazed upon her surroundings. As she did so, initially it was with confusion, and then her face went red like a tomato. She looked at me with rage and realized where she was.

She exclaimed, "H-How dare you share a bed with me! This is scandalous!"

She raised her hand, and I was too surprised by her reaction to prevent what happened next.

SLAP!

Despite bracing myself, I fell back. There was a large red mark on the back of my head, and I narrowly missed the headrest. Lyn launched herself into the air, covering her bosom as if she didn't have anything on (she did).

I exclaimed, "What the heck?! You were the one who shared a bed with me not the other way around!"

Lyn spastically threw her arms around in a panic. For a moment I was worried we would trouble the neighbors.

She said, "I would do no such thing! You must have snuck into my room and carried me in my sleep! That is the only explanation!"

I rolled my eyes so fast that the centripetal acceleration of the action caused my inner blood vessels to congregate near the center of my eyeball. This was starting to turn into the beginning of a sitcom routine.

I said, "Do you understand stupid that sounds?

* * *

 **...**

"I'm sorry I panicked. I thought my habit was a thing of the past."

"No, it's fine. I'm sorry for calling you stupid."

Lyn and I were sitting on top of my now cluttered bed. After our initial morning encounter, it took us several minutes to calm down and regain our bearings.

Lyn stood up. I realized her blue pajamas were clean and orderly. It made me wonder when she had the time to make them that way.

She said, "As much as my honor would like to deny it, I can't help but admit that I've enjoyed our little night together..."

 _That's a little unexpected._

Her face blushed a little. I tried to catch a glimpse of it but she looked away.

She added, "You've...been getting stronger, haven't you? I noticed you have a bit more muscle now."

I nodded my head slowly, "Yes, though it was more out of necessity than anything else. Working non-stop in the salt mines will do that."

She frowned.

"I see..."

Lyn sighed. For a moment I heard nothing but the chirping birds outside.

She said, "I suppose it's a good thing this was only our second night then."

My forehead wrinkled with curiosity.

I asked, "Second night?"

She nodded, "Yes. In the Lorcan tradition, any couple that shares a bed for a total of three times is considered married. The first two nights are allotted for the couple to decide how they feel about one another, and the last night is reserved for their wedding day. Should the couple not have tied the knot by the third night then it would bring them and their clan great dishonor."

Interesting. Although I didn't consider myself held down by arbitrary concepts like honor, I knew that Lyn did. Her very existence rode on it. Honor in the Lorca tribe could dictate your role in society, along with many other things. It was something I was going to have to respect if I wanted to stay together with Lyn.

I asked, "By any chance...would it be possible to remove such a dishonor from one's record?"

She looked me dead in the eye.

"Yes...but I'd have to kill you."

 _Okay, I regret asking that._

Lyn sighed again. It was more stressed than previously. This was more than enough to reinforce my belief that Lyn valued honor over all else.

Lyn had more to say. She had a stern facial expression and pointed her finger at me.

She said, "That is to be avoided at all costs. From now on, I forbid you from sleeping with me again. Do you understand me, tactician?"

I roll my eyes.

I replied, "Sure, but only if you get your sleepwalking under control."

She smiled at my snarky remark.

"I can do that. What good is a myrmidon if she can't control her movements?"

A bit of a stretch, but she's right. A myrmidon's footwork is their most important asset. It can be the difference between a victory and a defeat.

She walked up to the door. I could hear the distant chatter of guests beginning their day.

"Well, I'll be heading back to my room now. Get ready, we'll be leaving for Caelin soon."

Then she left, leaving me behind alone. With nothing but my own aches and pains, along with a full night's rest. But I soon regretted letting her go so quickly.

 _Well, I'm an idiot._

My ankle hadn't adequately healed overnight, and I couldn't leave my bed. With my immobilization, who was to go get the cleric now?

 _Eh...maybe Yanden or Barthillas will come and get me._ _Nowadays it seems that's all they do..._

I look over at an open notebook I had laid out on a bedside table. I had been keeping it since I first procured it at a shop in Bulgar. The last entry was back in August, nearly two months ago.

I groaned and crawled my way towards it. Another entry was long overdue.

* * *

 **Tactician's Log**

Entry on October 22th, Year our Creator 981.

I was responsible for a minor detour today. I woke up unable to move due to a rolled-up ankle, and it brought with it plenty of pain. Luckily, I managed to catch Yanden who was flirting with the milkmaid outside my door. He was able to secure for me the services of a smooth-talking cleric, and I was able to travel after about an hour.

We left the city with haste. Lyn was dying to see her uncle again, and I was just glad to be out of the city that had caused me so much trouble. Hopefully, I'll never have to come back here again.

Afterward, nothing of note happened...

* * *

Entry on October 23rd, Year of our Creator 981.

Today, I woke up with the pain having worsened slightly. My joints gave me so much discomfort that I had to ask Kent to allow me to ride his horse. Although the red knight was more than willing to oblige, I could sense an aura distrust from him. Had Kent not been under oath to obey his nearby liege, I feel like he would have left me to walk. Regardless, I traveled on his steed for some time, until the pain had subsided to the point I could walk again.

Kent has my gratitude. Even if he doesn't trust me.

I need to find out why...

* * *

Entry on October 24th, Year of our Creator 981.

Now that we had journeyed some distance away from the coast, we were rid of the moderating nature of that large body of water. The temperature has dropped about twenty degrees, and with the wind chill, it felt like it was 60 degrees Fahrenheit.

It is much colder...and with it my pain has skyrocketed. Every individual step shot up an annoying sensation of discomfort, and sleeping has become a chore.

I hadn't felt this way since I played football in high school. Back then I could just take medication to make this go away...but that's simply not an option.

Am I going to have to live with this now? All my past reckless actions have come back to haunt me. If I could go back I would've been much more careful. Hindsight is 20/20. The only thing I can do now is try to manage my symptoms. I can't let this pain dictate what I can and cannot do with myself.

* * *

Entry on October 25th, Year of our Creator 981.

Another sleepless night, but on the bright side, my pain has numbed somewhat.

Nothing of note happened today.

* * *

Entry on October 26th, Year of our Creator 981.

Saw a hill that looked like a doughnut. Lyn thought it was cool.

* * *

Entry on October 27th, Year of our Creator 981.

Turns out Barthillas is allergic to coconuts. Not sure where on this planet you can get those things...but at least now I know they exist.

* * *

Entry on October 28th, Year of our Creator 981.

Yeah, this getting boring. I'll write something here if something happens...

* * *

Entry on October 31st, Year of our Creator 981.

Today I woke up in the middle of the night feeling weak. But it wasn't for the usual reasons, however. My joints were feeling bad, but not to the point that it could cause this.

It was like the mana in my body had been drained. The usual tingle I felt within my fingertips was gone, and I could barely move. A nauseating feeling overtook my stomach, and I nearly expelled my dinner into the grass.

When I looked around for my companions, they were still gleefully snoring away into the night. Lyn was even sleep talking about a conversation we shared earlier in the day.

They were completely unaffected by whatever force was draining me. It was then that I realized that said force only affected mages, and since I was the only mage in our group, I'd be only one suffering in its wake.

But before I could scream to notify my companions of this threat, the unseen force vanished into thin air. The mana returned to my body, and I could move again. I felt completely fine, and it was like the force was never even there.

The whole experience might've been nothing more than a dream. That morning when I informed my friends of the event, they claimed ignorance. Barthillas even recounted an interesting dream he had about his childhood in Etruria.

I must be imagining things. Lack of sleep can do that to a man. Yet, I can't help but remember how _real_ it seemed. The period of weakness is still ingrained in my mind.

I suppose reality can be whatever my brain thinks it is. I need to get more sleep.

If it happens again I'll write it down.

* * *

 **November 1st...**

"Hey, Lyndis is back...and we have guests!"

"No way! Isn't that the masked mercenary? Wasn't he in Carazan a few weeks ago?"

"It appears like they were able to break the blockade even though the war is far from finished. But what is he doing here with our princess?"

"Not just him either. The famed adventurers Barthillas and Yanden are in tow. Our princess has some powerful friends."

We had arrived at Castle Caelin to some fanfare. A small crowd of local guards and servants congregated outside the gate, but they numbered no more than a couple dozen. I was flattered by the interest expressed by the locals. However, as we crossed into the interior of the castle it became clear where the majority of the population was. The courtyard was bustling with activity. Servants, butlers, maids, and some hired work acquired from the locale were busily putting together the finishing touches to tonight's grand event. Craftsmen were conducting maintenance work on a local dunk booth leaking water. A page was checking to make sure there were sufficient apples at the apple bobbing station. Some local youths were practicing a cultural dance routine.

Amid this crowd of humanity, I spotted two familiar faces high above everybody else. Perched in two separate ladders several yards from one another were Sain and Taliyah. They were setting a banner that said "WELCOME" in a bright red bold. I waved at them and screamed at the top of my lungs.

"Hey, guys! Y'all didn't have to go this far to welcome us back!"

The duo acknowledged my wave but didn't appear to hear me. Sain made a weird hand gesture towards his companion and she moved the banner to her right.

I frowned in disappointment. It's been a while since we'd talked. I'd appreciate a moment to catch up.

Lyn nudged my shoulder to get my attention.

She said, "You know this is more for the local peasants than for us right? The fall festival _is_ today."

I replied, "Of course I do. Didn't you read the sarcasm in my voice?"

She rolled her eyes, "With that accent, you're harder to read than a book."

I said, "I suppose reading a book would be difficult for you. Last time I checked you're fairly illiterate."

I placed my hand on top of my mouth to muffle my laughter. Lyn's cheek changed to a shade of red. Although we couldn't make our relationship public due to the scandal that would result from the "Masked Mercenary" putting his arm around Carlin's crown princess; there was nothing wrong with making small jokes like these.

Yanden pointed towards a rickety stand tucked away at a small isolated corner of the area. It had large jugs of a brown liquid.

He said matter-the-factly, "Ale."

Barthillas instinctively slapped the back of his older brother's head. He fell forward, and his face landed on the grass.

He scolded, "Can you _not_ think about getting wasted for one minute? Your actions have caused our family enough trouble."

Yanden carefreely shrugged his shoulders. He didn't care.

We continued our way through the castle, with Kent leading the way. We were told that we would come before the marquess himself...to get the formalities out of the way.

But something felt odd. As we traveled through the winding hallways I could sense a nearby pair of eyes watching my every move. Not the type that a curious passerby would possess...rather ones of more malicious intent. Something vile within the castle staff. Does the black fang possess a mole? Or maybe those slavers have come to take back their perceived property? Either way...I knew I couldn't let my guard down. I've done far too much to lose my freedom now.

CREEEEK!

The large metallic door roared as Kent pushed it open. He beckoned us inside, and beyond the lime green carpet, idle servants, colorful banners, and bright sunlight was a familiar old man.

It was marquess Caelin. He looked years younger, and his royal regalia gave him an intimidating presence. He looked like a new man...I suppose finding a reason to live does that. I should know first hand, there were many moments in my past where the memory of the girl standing next to me kept me going.

There was a duo of heavily armored knights standing next to him. One of them had a familiar lock of army green hair poking out from his helmet...although I couldn't piece why I found them so.

Lord Hausen smiles.

He said, "Hello my guests. It's a pleasure to have you all here. I take that you are here to join us for our festival? As friends of my granddaughter?"

Kent bowed and the others followed suit. I hesitated as for a split second I was the only one standing. I got a flashback about what happened last time I refused to bow to a monarch, and I bent down slightly before anyone could notice.

One could hardly consider it a bow. It was a half-assed compromise between my pride and respect, but the marquess accepted it nonetheless.

Hausen invited us to take guest rooms he had prepared for us. We accepted, and I was able to rest my weary legs after a long journey. My body still aches with pains, but I was able to soothe some of them away with a nice, long, hot shower.

Afterward, I shared some lunch with the brothers and took an equally satisfying nap. Sometimes...it felt good to be lazy.

* * *

"Wake up, tactician. I've been waiting for you long enough."

It was an unfamiliar voice. I shot up from my bed and reached for the knife I had hidden underneath my pillow...

"Woah! Calm down! I come in peace!"

 _Kill them before they can kill you!_

I lunged at my perceived attacker, but instead, I hit empty air. I lost my balance and fell. But before I could hit the ground a friendly force grabbed me. As I struggled against it, I managed to catch a glimpse of my guest by way of a nearby mirror.

I relaxed. This wasn't the black fang or a vengeful Carazanite, it was Matthew.

I apologized profusely. I was acting out of instinct, a consequence of the many battles I've fought in the past. Luckily, Matthew didn't hold it against me.

He asked, "Do you know why I've come here?"

That much was obvious. I hadn't been in contact with Matthew's employer's direct agents since my disappearance. They've come to check on their investment.

I replied, "Perhaps your employer wants to put me under another test? Haven't I been through enough already?"

Matthew bit his lip, "No...not right now anyway. I've heard stories about everything that happened to you. You have my condolences for the loss of your white-haired friend."

I felt like my heart took in a bullet as he mentioned her memory. For a second, I pondered where Lumina would be now had she not decided to save me that day. Perhaps she'd be the one taking it easy, but deep down I knew she wouldn't. She'd be combing this entire continent for her dear sister. She wouldn't rest until they were reunited.

Yet here I was. Taking naps and eating my girlfriend's food. How pathetic...I'm going against the promise I made to her. I truly represent the scum of the earth.

"Are you alright Mark?"

 _Oh, that's right, I haven't told him my real name yet._

Before I could do so, Matthew consoled me. I didn't have the heart to correct him.

He said, "Come on man...I see what's going on here. You need some time to rest."

I disagreed, "No...I made a promise to Lumina. I told her I was going to go find her sister. Yet, I'm here loafing around."

Matthew took a moment to consider what I just said. This was new information to him.

Matthew sighed, "Tell me, am I right to assume that this little girl's location is unknown?"

"Y-Yes."

Matthew added, "Then you understand how momentous of a task your undertaking then right?"

That was something I had considered. But taking into account the price Lumina had to pay to save my life, it did nothing to hinder my resolve.

I nodded, "I do. I'll find her, or die trying."

Matthew frowned. This was not part of the plan. It was important that the tactician acted in accordance with the interests of his employer. He had to choose his next few words carefully.

He said, "Mark, don't you remember the agreement we made earlier? You agreed you'd work for my employer..."

"We still reserve the right to slay you. You forget your place in this society."

I broke into a cold sweat. The thief's hands were within plain view, but I knew he could slit my throat within seconds. Nobody would ever know who did it, and ultimately I wouldn't be surprised if they pinned my death on the Fang. Or one of my many other enemies. I kept an unwavering gaze on Matthew. I noted his every move.

He said, "I'll tell you how it is. I can forget that you ever said that and conclude that you just need some rest. Go ahead and attend the Fall Festival. We can speak about your future assignment in the coming days."

I gulped. I felt like a cornered animal, with my palms flat against the wall. I was no different than a dairy cow, with the butcher in standby should I ever stop producing milk for the brass.

It didn't feel fair. I put myself through hell with the expectation that I would leave Carazan a free man, but my fate was never in my own hands. I was an asset to be used by Matthew's employer, and much like the cruel businessmen of my own world he/she would stop at nothing to accomplish their goals. My own two cents be damned.

Matthew turned to leave, his face stone cold. Gone was the enthusiastic thief I had learned to love. In his place was an emotionless soldier following orders, no different than the morphs under Nergal's command.

He had his foot flush with my window sill. His brown hair was visible under the bright moonlight. He looked towards the crowd gathering nearby for the festival.

Without turning he said, "Watch yourself, Tactician. Even if you don't, we will be."

Then he jumped out, presumably landing safely in a cart of hay below.

I was shocked. I didn't know who to trust. Even Matthew, someone who I considered my friend didn't have my best interests at heart. He's just a cog in his employers' games. With trembling hands, I went over to the closet. The purple outfit inside had been cleaned and ironed by a maid earlier.

I nearly fumbled the doorknob as I opened the door. I felt like a man on death row.

Whether I liked it or not I had to listen to Matthew. I _had_ to go to the Fall Festival.

It was my only choice.

* * *

"Sam do you feel unwell!? You look like you've seen a ghost!"

Taliyah rolled up my sleeve and felt my pulse. It had an irregular beat but was otherwise strong. We were at the Fall Festival, but my mind was so preoccupied that I didn't bother stopping Taliyah from giving me an impromptu check-up.

The atmosphere was jovial. Jesters, bards, actors, and other performers were gleefully performing their acts. The music was so loud one could barely hear their own thoughts. Villagers and city folk from Caelin proper were dancing to the primitive beats. Food was provided in abundance and at free of charge. Pumpkin pie was everywhere and is said to be delicious. Empty plates of eaten yams, blue cheese, and bacon were stacked neatly at the feast table. Brussels sprouts, broccoli, and beans were also being enjoyed by the festival-goers. People were also playing games. Young girls and boys were flinging horseshoes towards tacks in the ground. Young men not yet drunk were proving their metal by playing gameball in front of local women. Married women were gossiping, and elders decided to spend the time taking it easy and recounting distant stories to the next generation.

But I was not indulging in such pleasantries. I was alone at the bar, drinking my nth (?) glass of ale when the castle nurse ran into me.

She asked, "How many drinks have you had?"

I shrugged my shoulders, "I don't know."

I wave my hand over to the bartender for another drink, but Taliyah shooed her away. The bartender frowned as I was her only customer, save for Yanden who was passed out at my right.

Yanden muttered, "Ale..."

Taliyah cautiously looked over at the intoxicated pirate, but he didn't seem to notice. After a brief moment, she looked back at me.

She said, "I think you're done here."

I respond by emptying the last few droplets of liquid courage into my mouth. The blonde nurse looked upset as I did so.

I got up from my seat and ignored the impact gravity had on my joints. My body was suitably numb, and it allowed me to ignore my consistent discomfort.

Along with what's to come. Eventually...

I said, "You should have let this dishonorable soldier get *hick* another drink."

Taliyah's face winced. She smelled the booze that reeked my breath.

She said, "You're drunk."

I lazily stumble forward and nearly fall on a nearby chair.

I mumbled, "No I'm *hick* not."

She puts my arm around her shoulder. This allowed me to transfer some of my weight to her. She turns on her honeyed, domestic, nurse attitude.

She said, "You're done for today. Let's take you back to your room before Lady Lyn sees you."

I agreed. We got out through a back door of the bar and managed to avoid most of the crowd outside of the establishment. We slipped through a back alley, and eventually found ourselves within the castle itself.

Walking through the hallways, we ran into Sain who was patrolling for intruders. His green armor was dim against the torch he held, and I could see he carried himself differently.

With no regard for my own reputation, I whistle at him.

"Oh howdyyyyyy Saiiiiiin. Have you lost some weight? It's niiiice to see you're okayyyy."

Sain could hardly keep himself from laughing. Neither could Taliyah. The green knight silently extended his hand towards Taliyah. He offered to take my heavy body off this small lady's shoulders.

Taliyah agreed, "P-Please! You're such a dear Sain. I know you always look out for me."

A small hint of red washes over his face, along with some sweat droplets. Obviously, those words touched him. I did not take this detail lightly.

I said, "Ohhhhh! Are y'all a couple? Nothing pulls the heartstrings moooore than forbidden l-"

Taliyah covered my mouth with her hand. It just so happened that Sain did so as well.

The air was still for a moment. I could hear nothing but loud music outside.

Taliyah said, "S-Sain."

The green knight said nothing. He took me off the ground and carried me on his shoulder. Despite his lost weight, he still carried plenty of strength.

She said, "Y-Yes...I suppose you should get going."

The two then exchanged some words that I could not understand. The medium was by way of a sign language I was unfamiliar with. I assume it was to bid farewell.

Thus Taliyah transferred my care from herself to Sain. The green knight, one of the finer soldiers in Lyn's legion, effortlessly led me to my room. My door opened and he laid me down on my bed.

He didn't say anything, but as he left he gave me a look that suggested: "See you later."

He left me alone in my room with nothing but my own thoughts and flawed mind. With my mind in shambles due to the alcohol, there was nothing preventing me from digging my head in my pillows and count sheep. But just as I was about to doze off, I heard a voice.

"Drinking isn't going to solve your problems. You above all others should now that."

It wasn't Matthew's. Rather, it sounded older and muffled. Like someone was wearing a stuffy mask.

I groggily looked up and saw a familiar face. It was the Doctor, the same one that I had seen treating Sain during his bout of tuberculosis. He wore the same brim hat, black cane, and long robes that made him resemble a plague doctor. He must've wandered in when I wasn't paying attention. Or maybe I managed to take in a split minute snooze. Reality seems to be fleeting by the day.

I asked, "What do you want?"

The Doctor took a seat by a desk I had by my closet. His body wavered a little as he did so, and his cane flexed against his weight.

He said, "I saw you at lunch today. You looked like you were under quite a bit of pain."

I replied sarcastically, "So? It's not like you could do anything about it. Even if you said you could there's no way I'm going to let a quack doctor like you touch me."

The Doctor clears his throat. The slight did not go unnoticed. Still, he persevered.

He said, "You speak as if your someone who treats themselves well. Yet you continue putting yourself and your body in unnecessary danger. I hear that you've been involved in a spat with one of your soldiers. You were upset that he wouldn't throw you into that mass of enemy troops."

Flustered, I said, "E-Excuse me what?"

He kept the calm tone in his voice.

He said, "Treatment aside if you keep putting your body under abnormal stress then it'll give out on you. Just look at me. I made a decision many years ago that forces me to use this cane."

He put his cane in front of him to give me a better view. It was made of a sturdy-looking wood and was black as midnight.

He said, "I dueled a man when I was just two years removed from having received my degree. He was a peer of mine, and we shared several classes at the University of Ostia. However, as we progressed in our careers I realized that he was going down a path I could not accept..."

"Despite all the training we had received, this doctor proved grossly incompetent. Under the guise of surgery, he maimed 30 innocent men, women, and children who desperately needed help. When I caught whiff of this, I confronted him, demanding that he cease his practice immediately. But...he refused..."

I asked, "What was his reasoning?"

The Doctor continued, "This man was greatly egotistical. He insisted that he was the best surgeon in Lycia and that it wasn't in my place to judge him. Afterward, he laughed in my face. He said even if he was a terrible surgeon, I couldn't do anything because the board of medicine in the University of Ostia was headed by his father. He was right about that...so there was only one thing I could do."

"We gave an oath! We were to do no harm to patients...yet this man did just that! I threw my glove at his feet, and challenged him to a duel to the death! The quack doctor accepted my proposal, probably because he foolishly thought he could win. But when we met at noon that day, he proved to be as incompetent in combat than in surgery. I slew him with magic, but at a cost. Although the doctor was incompetent, he had some knowledge of thunder magic. As he lay dying, he obliterated part of the bone in my knee. So now I have to live with this for the rest of my life. But the knee has been deteriorating with time, and I know I only have a decade left until I can never walk again."

He pointed his finger at me, "This was a mistake. I believed justice would never meet my peer, but little did I know that a group of knights was planning to apprehend him that evening. He would have seen a proper trial under the eyes of the people and of the law. By killing him myself, I stole the closure the doctor's victims would have felt by exposing him in a public trial. I was thrown in prison for a year for obstructing justice. In the end, this injury was meaningless. A byproduct of my rash actions."

He added, "You need to take better care of yourself. Stop rushing into combat. You have others that are both tougher and more suited to fill the front line. Remember that, or you'll spend your golden years bedridden."

I replied, "Uh...huh..."

I nodded my head slowly, mostly just to get him to leave my drunk self alone. The Doctor shook his head in disbelief, and I could tell he was questioning my ability to reason.

He stood up and calmly made for the door.

He said, "This conversation is one best shared at a later date. I'll come back when you're sober."

The door shut closed behind him. I dug my head into my pillows again, and lazily let my arm fall off the edge of my bed. Now was the time to rest, not to hear old men babble.

I was confident nobody would disturb me again. I closed my eyes, but it took me a while to embrace slumber's grasp again. My mind was too occupied with my incoming doom to let me sleep.

I was going to have to go back to war again. Back to the same endless slaughter fought between commoners and initiated by noble big wigs. Back to watching my loved ones die in my arms. Back to putting my body on the line. Back to reinforcing the pain that haunts my dreams.

I wanted an escape, to run away. But I knew such a thing was relegated to fantasy.

Right?

* * *

 **A/N: I apologize, this episode was kinda all over the place. I'll avoid this in the next few chapters.**


	34. Visions

**Chapter 30: Visions**

 **By SodiumChloride12, derived from Fire Emblem, owned by Nintendo.**

 **A/N: It would really, really mean a lot to me if y'all can spend a few seconds of your time to participate in a poll I set up in my profile page. It's near and dear to me, and will help me in developing my next project. Thanks a bunch!**

 **Sorry for the late upload. Fire Emblem Three Houses is too good!**

 **N: When faced with adversity, our hero is given a choice. Continue in the path laid out for him, or try something unexpected. He makes his choice, and he quickly realizes that he had just made the worst mistake of his life.**

* * *

Opening my eyes, the stinging sensation of smoke caused them to water immediately. Unable to bear it, I coughed and coughed; so much so a thick coat of blood splattered onto the floor. It was difficult to breathe, and the smoke felt like a steel cage crushing my lungs.

Looking around, I came under a shroud of curiosity. I was in the mountains, surrounded by burning primitive dwellings. It was eerily silent, save for the crackling of the flames. The sun flew high in the sky, and the stray cold wind did nothing to quell the heat.

 _Where am I?_

Lifting myself from the ground, I immediately felt weak. My empty stomach churned, and my legs struggled against the burden of gravity. I fell into the ground, and to my horror, I landed on something hard.

I nearly vomited at the sight of it. It was a black, charred skeleton. The skeleton disintegrated into ash when my hand impacted it, lifting even more pollution into the air. My heart sank when I realized that the bones were too small to belong to a human man.

It belonged to a woman. Presumably innocent.

 _Was I...responsible for this?_

This had to be a dream...I've received so many moments like these in my subconscious. But something was different this time around. Everything felt so _real_. The pain I had in my lungs was genuine. The hunger I sensed in my stomach couldn't be fake. But most of all, the intense cocktail of sorrow, confusion, and fear were unlike anything I'd ever experienced.

This was real life. This skeleton belonged to a living, breathing human.

I looked at my hands. The exterior of my palms was red; a symptom of 1st-degree burns. This was often the result of repeated, powerful fire spells...

I covered my face. Tear droplets were forming around my eyes.

 _No No No No! This was my doing! How could this have happened?!_

My thoughts were interrupted with a voice.

"Help her...please."

I turned towards it, and my mind went numb. A burnt tent was flapping in the wind, with blood staining its sides. Piles upon piles of dead men wearing bandit clothing surrounded it. At a focal point in the center of the mass of humanity, there laid a young woman with green hair trapped under debris.

She had a pole impaled straight through her body. Despite the obvious pain she was in, she was protectively wrapping a small body under her arm.

A little girl, with familiar white hair. It was the same shade of snow as...

 _Oh my God..._

There was no doubt about, somehow, I had come across the little sister of Lumina. Laniakea.

Ignoring my weakness, I rushed towards the duo. By the time I reached the young lady, her body had already gone limp. I briefly touched her clammy skin.

She was dead. A nameless casualty.

I shifted my attention towards the little girl. She had a large cut across her back, and she was bleeding profusely. If I didn't close it up quickly, she would die.

I didn't have any bandages. Nor could I use the magic necessary to treat her. Even if I did, my empty stomach guaranteed that I had no mana.

Frustrated, I slammed my hand into the dirt. If I don't do anything, Laniakea will see the same fate as this young woman and her sister.

 _Why am I so useless! All I can do is take lives...but I can't save them! Why..._

It was at that moment that everything came back to me.

Everything that had happened. How I found myself in a bandit camp southwest Sacae.

* * *

 **One month ago...**

Yawning, Sain lazily leaned against the wall. The morning sun brought in well-needed warmth to the damp, cold castle. A bright light lit up the previously dark fortress, highlighting the green carpets. The hallways were sparse of activity, most of the staff were still recovering from the intensity of last night's festivities.

Sain himself had deep bags under his eyes. He stayed awake all night and volunteered to take on the shift of a friend who had wanted to visit his family yesterday. The green knight had wanted to regain some of the honor he had lost when he abandoned his troop a while back, so this didn't bother him much. But still, he was tired and was ready to be relieved by a peer at the end of the hour.

Perhaps he'd drink a pint of light beer before he went to bed. Or maybe water on its own would do fine. Either way, this patrol wouldn't be his responsibility soon, so it didn't matter what beverage he indulges in.

"Help!"

Suddenly, a shriek disturbed the castle's drowsy state. Its fearful ring made Sain's eyes widen, and his heart jumped several feet in the air.

He recognized that voice. It belonged to the nurse Taliyah. His worst fears have been realized. She was in danger.

He dashes towards the direction of her voice, with the clanking of his armor loudly announcing his location. Groggy staff opened their doors in the surrounding hallways to see the green knight nearly knock over the bust of a long-dead noble. His legs cried out in pain under the stress of the heavy armor, but he didn't care. He wouldn't know what he would do with himself if he lost her.

He turned the corner, and immediately he felt a dark, evil aura. The airdropped several degrees and Sain's breath became visible as it condensed. Small pockets of ice formed on the stone walls.

The particular area of the castle was dark, save for a ray of light provided by a lone high window. Shifting his gaze down at the two figures underneath it, he was horrified at what he saw.

Mark had Taliyah pinned to a wall. Her staff had fallen to the floor, with the healing crystal at its top shattered. With his mouth open, Mark was intaking a mysterious, white, energy-like substance from the young nurse. Taliyah was unconscious, but blood was flowing from her nose. Her face was contorted with pain.

Without thinking, Sain threw his lance at the tactician. Mark immediately stopped whatever he was doing and ducked to dodge the attack. The lance fell harmlessly on the stone floor.

Taliyah fell towards the ground, and Sain rushed towards her before she hit her head. He looked towards the tactician and extended his sword at him defensively. Mark did nothing, and he blankly looked at the green knight.

To his relief, Taliyah was still alive. However, her breathing was slow, and her skin was cold as ice. Shifting her body so that she would be more comfortable, Sain noticed that some individual strands of her hair had turned a ghostly white. She proved completely unresponsive when he whispered her name.

He exclaimed, "What did you do?!"

The tactician said nothing. Lifting his black obsidian mask from his face, they revealed two golden eyes. His jet black hair was neatly slicked back with gel, and his blood-red lips cracked a wide, vile smile.

He pointed towards the young nurse on the floor. His manner of speaking caught Sain off guard. His voice was the same, but it carried none of his familiar twangs.

"Find out for yourself."

Sain raised his brow, "What do you m-"

Suddenly, Taliyah opened her eyes. The usually optimistic golden orbs were instead ones filled with terror. Her eyes rolled behind her head, and she started having a seizure.

Stifling his panic, he placed her on the ground. She continued her involuntary movement, and Sain could do nothing as she began foaming from the mouth.

"Muwhahaha!"

Mark-...this _being's_ laughter rang out through the hallways. It was at this moment that Sain realized that humanity's worst nightmare had come true.

This was not Mark. It was Azazel. In the flesh. The demon of Fibernia had made his first move.

Sain exclaimed, "Azazel!"

Azazel returned the black mask to his face. The aura surrounding his body grew in intensity.

He said, "What's wrong green knight? Don't tell me you've never seen Total Mana Deprivation first hand?"

Sain took a step back.

"Total Ma..."

Azazel mockingly shook his head.

He said, "Stupid boy. You'd best get going, if you don't she'll die shortly. I should know. I've drained her dry of all mana, and if you didn't come and disturb my feast I would have taken her quintessence as well. Leave now. I have all the mana I need, and your demise would not benefit nor harm me."

Sain took on a defensive stance. His steel sword looked opaque in the darkness, but it was sturdy. It could cut into this maniac with ease.

Sain said, "I'll end you here maniac. I won't allow you to harm any more people. It is my duty to stop fiends like you."

Sain could see green flames develop around Azazel's fingertips.

Without warning, a condensed stream of green shot at him. The green knight quickly grabbed Taliyah and dodged the attack, but the burden of her weight caused him to suffer some peripheral damage. Sain bent down to grab his nearby spear, but his right arm wouldn't move. His eyes widened when he realized what had happened.

The attack was so hot that the plate armor covering his right arm had partly melted, destroying the joints that allowed him to move. Due to the chain mail he wore underneath, he wasn't in any serious pain, but Azazel had eliminated any battle worthiness he held. In other words, Sain was now completely helpless.

Azazel looked at what he had done to the green knight. He snickered at the fine demonstration of his power.

"Consider that a warning shot. Leave and tell the world of my arrival. I am the bane of civilization, the demon of Fibernia. My magical abilities can be matched by no one. Let the world know this..."

Azazel shot a magical thunderbolt through the ceiling. Rubble fell around him, and brisk sunlight lit up the hallway. The green carpets went black with dust.

"I will construct a new kingdom in this land! One with me as the supreme emperor."! With it...I will rule the world!"

It wasn't the grand throne the demon had wanted to make his deafening proclamation, but it was enough to get his point across. Sain was visibly sweating and he knew...

He did not stand a chance against him. To be honest, he wasn't even sure if the entire garrison would either.

So Sain did the only thing he could do. He put the woman that he loved on his back and made a dash for Doctor Swift's office. Her quivering body was difficult to keep nearby, but he managed.

His duty be damned. He'd rather suffer the greatest dishonor than let her die when he could put a stop to it. She meant too much to him. Especially since...

She was the one who gave him his voice...

* * *

Azazel did nothing as the green knight disappeared past the winding hallways. Had it been any other person, he would have gladly cut him down so that he could've finished his meal. But something within him, no doubt from Samuel, moved him to withhold his hellfire.

Azazel cursed himself. Such inconveniences were best left to the weak. He would not allow his imperfect influences to affect him again. Next time, he'll kill anyone of the weakling's former friends.

Without mercy.

Azazel sighed and sat down. The sunlight's ray beat down on him, and the open wind touched his thick black hair. That nurse had provided him plenty of mana, and even some quintessence to add to his growing power. It was so much that he had to take a moment to consolidate the new power within him.

His face wrinkles. He found this detail intriguing. Usually, clerics don't provide much mana. While this fact was true with Taliyah, the little quintessence he did draw from her was excellent. Good quintessence is usually the result of a highly motivated individual, which is rare among peasant folk and sellswords.

He smirked. He now understood why. Her motivation came from her desire to live. Her desire to live for something...or someone.

After dwelling on it for a while, he heard the approaching sounds of boots hitting the stone floor. Judging by their amplitude, he surmised that about a hundred soldiers were in route to deal with him.

He raised himself back onto his feet. His veins bulged as his MP doubled.

One versus a hundred. At one point he took on a thousand and still emerged victorious. Although the garrison won't sate his bloodlust, they could at least serve as a fine appetizer.

After all, the main course dwelled beyond the castle gates.

* * *

Lord Hausen sat concerned on his throne. Just yesterday he had been here greeting some new arrivals, and now one of them is causing some trouble. He isn't sure of who is responsible, but whoever is will receive the strictest punishment available to him.

The death penalty. Lady Taliyah is now bedridden thanks to this hoodlum, and since he considered her his direct vassal, he viewed this as a direct attack on his authority.

He grunted. Monarchies like his rely on a firm, but delicate hand on the commoners. Should that foundation be compromised, then it would prove disastrous to the reign of himself and his successors.

That is why this troublemaker deserves the full force of his garrison. He has 100 knights in his disposal, all sourced from vassals and tributaries that consider him their marquess. Due to the expense, it had to be kept this small, however, they formed a highly trained professional detachment. If they can't subdue this threat, then likely nothing in Caelin could either.

Hausen leaned back against his chair. The soft cushioning did nothing to ease the pain in his old joints.

He would not be participating in this excursion. It wasn't in his place as the reigning monarch to do so. Even if it was, Lord Hausen was no military man. He had built his career on smooth administration and good governance. A sword was like a foreign object to him.

His thoughts were interrupted with the churn of the door ahead. A young man with medium build entered the room, and his green hair fell to the floor as he bowed.

"Sire!"

It was Sir Eagler's son, Thomas. He was a knight in direct fidelity to him, and was a direct obstacle to his brother's usurpation of the throne months earlier. Lundgren considered killing him outright when he seized power, but he relented. The 17-year-old boy was better used as a bargaining piece, and he was thrown into the dungeon below the castle.

There he rotted for several months, up to the day of Lundgren's death. When he was finally freed, the young man was devastated at the news of his father's demise. But rather than fall into a cataclysm of sorrow, he threw himself back into the service of his lord after three days of mourning. Hausen was impressed with the young knight, and he appointed him as his personal bodyguard.

Of course, there was another reason behind this. Rumor has it, Thomas is a closeted homosexual. Although when questioned he had denied this, his postmaster intercepted love letters sent between him and an artist living in a nearby village. Hausen hadn't ordered the postmaster to do so, but this fact proved notable to him.

Homosexuality is taboo amongst military circles, and should his peers ever find out he'll surely be killed. So with this in mind, Hausen swore the postmaster to secrecy and informed Thomas that his secret would stay that way. It was his duty to protect Thomas. Sir Eagler was a fine knight to him, and he knew Thomas would develop to become one as well.

Besides, he owed his father that much. If the actions of his brother led to his death, then it was up to him to make sure that fate didn't fall upon his son. It also helped that doing so would ensure that Thomas would never betray him...but that served as periphery to the grander scheme of things.

Hausen rose from his seat. His hand was raised to acknowledge his knight.

He said, "Yes, Sir Thomas! What news have you brought to me!"

Thomas was taking in large breaths. He had run a large distance to get here, a task exasperated by his heavy armor.

He said, "We have received updated information of the identity of the attacker! It's one of the guests that arrived yesterday! It's the tactician my lord!"

"It's Mark!"

Hausen frowned. His first thought went over to his granddaughter, who was surely on her way to intercept her lover any minute now.

No matter how he dealt with this...this wasn't going to end well.

He should have known better than to trust him.

* * *

A giant explosion rocked the western wall of Castle Caelin. Debris and dust were ejected into the air with huge force, so much so that it began to cloud the sky. But those weren't the only things being thrown into the air. Through the fiery inferno, burnt corpses littered the ground. Dry blood stained the walls.

Molten steel and broken weapons. They formed a cone-like silhouette in front of Azazel's sight. They were all that remained of the grand force that had challenged him. Well...not quite.

He had allowed a quarter of the force to escape in a panicked rout. While they did so, many of them dropped their shields, with the crests of their proud families still on them.

Azazel snickered. He could still remember the panicked final orders of their commanding officer. He ordered his garrison to grab as much wounded as possible and retreat to the throne room. He hadn't had as much as a second to breathe when Azazel struck him with an Elfire spell.

Perhaps he should start making his way over there now. Sure, he could just leave them be and escape...but where's the fun in that? Besides, Samuel's friends still lived. As long as they did, he knew that weakling had a chance to return.

That had to be avoided at all costs. He'd worked too hard to let him take back control now.

"Azazel! Don't move!"

A familiar voice, and knew just who it belonged to. The one person that Samuel treasured above all else. That halfling myrmidon with the green hair. How convenient to find her here...

Just as he was thinking about killing her.

Without hesitation, he chanted the lightning incantation. Electricity left his fingertips at light speed, and it crackled as it burst through the air. He heard a horrifying clap from the electricity slamming into the wall, and debris covered a small radius where she had stood. When the dust finally settled, there was nothing but charred stone in her place.

Funny, perhaps he had put to much force into the attack. He suspected there's at least be a body, but the simple satisfaction of her death will suffice enou-

SLASH!

 _What?!_

A cold beam of light cut through his chest. It sliced straight through his purple cloth with ease, along with his skin. A pint of blood splattered on the green carpet.

Azazel didn't even have a second to recover his bearings when another flash of green appeared from his periphery vision. He drew the dagger that Samuel hid in his cloak and parried the blow. Turning his body, he had to duck to dodge yet another blow from the sacaen.

 _What the hell? Where is she?_

This cycle went on for some time. He would spot her attacking just in time to parry any blow, but then she would disappear again. She was so fast that he could never take on the initiative.

He didn't like this. In fact...it infuriated him. He had a working knowledge of hand-to-hand combat, but it was magic where he worked best. By keeping him on the defensive, he was unable to grasp the fire tome he had in his robe. All he could do was keep up, but not much else.

Azazel's blade slammed onto the Mani Katti. Red shrapnel flew into the air and landed on both of the combatants, burning them.

Why did she insist on maintaining this stalemate? It was nothing but a waste of time!

Then it hit him.

Lyn never intended to win this fight. All she wanted to do was buy time. But for what?

He wasn't about to wait and find out.

He had to do the one thing that a mage was never supposed to do. The most impractical thing in the world.

Lyn came in close for another blow, now was his chance.

He screamed, "ELFIRE!"

Suddenly, a vortex of cool blue flame surrounded his body. Lyn screamed as the flames kissed her skin, and she fell back against a wall. Soon after, the flames subsided and Azazel was forced to take a knee.

That attack licked his mana reserves dry. The tome worked as a catalyst to ease the amount of mana a mage spent on an attack, but without it, a mage would have to use exponentially more mana. Most mages can't even dispel a single attack, but Azazel was no ordinary mage.

But even he had his limits. He felt weak, and he didn't have the time needed for his reserves to replenish naturally. The marquess was surely going to send more men, and if he had to face them without magic then he was as good as dead.

Luckily for him, there was a source of mana right in front of him. Even if she didn't have any magic reserves to tap into, her quintessence would do just fine...

* * *

Lyn's lungs wheezed as she tried to take in air. All she could do was cough as more and more dust filled them instead. Her body was in pain due to Azazel's attack, but surprisingly she didn't feel all too bad. The flames weren't as intense as she expected, and the temperature barely caused some minor first-degree burns.

The more she thinks about it, it appeared more like an attack of desperation rather than one of intense might.

Despite her body's objection's, she knew she had to get up. The killer of her parents was before her right now. She can't pass up the chance to fulfill the burning desire in her heart.

Revenge.

She had been waiting a long time for this. Endless nights of nightmares of that monster slaying her parents in front of her; the green flames that reduced her village to dust. The panic attacks she's suffered for months, the long months of solitude without a society to call her own. The winter she sustained in hunger, the anxious days on her own where she feared the Taliver would come and finish the job. The source of all her pain and suffering...

But still, a part of her relented. Her heart yearned for the tactician residing within that body, and looking into the demon's eyes reminded her of him. She often wondered what she would do if she was given the choice between avenging her people and a life with him. To be completely honest with herself...

She didn't know.

"You've caused enough trouble for me now."

Raising her head, she saw Azazel approaching her. He was disarmed, with no tome or dagger to speak of. Puzzled, Lyn wondered why he felt so confident being near her without a mode to defend himself. Perhaps the demon had gotten cocky...and it was in her place to humble her.

She didn't have a moment to spare. She coaxed her ailing body to move, but at first, it stayed still. Another shot of adrenaline quickly began coursing through her veins, and she leaped at her opponent with the full night of herself and the Mani Katti.

She screamed, "You will pay Azaz-"

THUNK!

Her sword fell harmlessly against the floor. The glimmer of its steel blade shone a light into her eyes. Lyn felt pressure around her neck, and she was unable to breathe.

Azazel had his hand around her neck...lifting her up from the ground as her legs kicked him in protest. She tried drawing a knife she had in her back pocket, but the demon simply knocked it away. Lyn tried everything in her power to free herself, but it was all in vain. She was trapped.

Right where Azazel wanted her.

She looked into his eyes. Gone was the warmth of the tactician she once knew. In their place, were the orbs of a cold-blooded killer.

Azazel smirked.

He said, "Excellent quintessence. No wonder that weakling was so attracted to you."

 _Excellent quintessence? What does he mean?_

Suddenly, Azazel opened his mouth and Lyn instantly felt weak. Translucent, white energy began to leave her body and was consumed by the demon. Lyn struggled with newfound vigor, but this too could not stop him. With every passing second, Lyn's vision began to falter, until everything around her was nothing but a blur. With blood expelling from her nose, it began to form a small puddle below her feet.

She muttered, "Y-You...N-No..."

Her life force was being taken away from her...though oddly enough she wasn't in any pain. Her vision turned black, and everything became cold. She was covered in a veil of uncertainty.

For the first time since the slaughter of her people, she felt true fear.

Azazel dropped the would-be heroine onto the floor. She fell like a rag doll, and her green hair turned brown as it mixed with her own red crimson. She laid still and looked lifeless. Her clear skin reflected a tone of death.

He could feel his power returning to him. The quintessence afforded to him by this girl was double in strength to the young cleric. He felt like he was powerful enough to take over a nation.

Azazel smiled. That gamble was worth it. Nobody could challenge him now. More so since he just removed the tactician's most important person from the face of the earth.

With a triumphant step, he began making his way towards the throne room. He passed by the mountains of dead that he was responsible for, carelessly kicking away any carcass that laid in his way.

"Do not take another step."

He turned towards the voice and spied three men at the opposite end of the hallway. One had brown hair and red armor. Another was a larger man with an equally large hammer and thick gold, black armor. The last man had copper hair, twin black blades, and an eyepatch over his right eye.

How many more people were going to foolishly throw themselves at him?

Barthillas eyes the young princess whose body laid still on the ground. The sight unsettled him, but he knows that it'll have a different effect on her bodyguard. The red knight standing to the right of him.

Kent takes a step forward, but Barthillas put his hand ahead of him to stop him.

He said, "Don't. It's suicide."

Kent shook his head, "I don't care. It is my duty to protect her."

Barthillas knew that he would never be able to convince him to think otherwise. If Lycian knights were known for anything, it was their commitment to their liege. But still, he couldn't just allow him to throw his life away. Especially since so much of his own brethren laid dead on the ground.

Yanden drew his sword. The black blades grew warm with the sunlight.

He said, "Allow my brother and I to buy you some time. We'll occupy Azazel while you rush for the princess. Send her to Doctor Swift immediately."

Kent replied, "But do you two stand a chance against him?"

Yanden smiled. For a second Kent wondered if the duo was more powerful than they let on.

Yanden said, "Don't worry. Demon Lords are our specialty."

Barthillas readied his stance. His golden hammer began to glow with holy light.

Barthillas exclaimed, "Do your duty sir knight! We will do ours!"

Barthillas and Yanden immediately charged at their opponent. Azazel quickly chanted an Elfire spell, and magical flames were sent towards the two.

Yanden shouted, "Wall of Darkness!"

His twin black swords oozed with dark magic. With a quick strike, he sliced into the air. A black, magical wall erected from the ground, and the two brothers took shelter behind it. The Elfire attack slammed into it and was absorbed by the wall.

It was Yanden's signature defensive move. Wall of Darkness is an impenetrable wall of black magic that blocks all magical projectiles. In addition to this, the wall is uncrossable to everyone but Yanden. As impressive at the wall may seem, it does have its drawbacks. In order to maintain the wall, Yanden cannot use any other magic spells during the wall's lifetime, and the wall itself has a 45-second cooldown until it can be used again.

Azazel shouted, "What?!"

Barthillas exclaimed, "Quickly Yanden! Hit him before he has another opportunity to attack!"

Yanden burst through his wall. With his quick feet, he was able to close the distance with ease. He raised his sword...

SLICE!

He cut the demon with the bare blade. Had Azazel not leaned away from the blow, it surely would've ended the fight right then and there.

Azazel screamed in agony. His own blood began staining his pants. He covered it with his own hand in a vain attempt to stem the bleeding.

Yanden smiled as Kent picked up Lyn and hurriedly disappeared into the winding hallways. They would be safer that way he thought.

But there was another reason behind his pleasure, however. With Kent gone, there was now no outside witnesses around. Nobody to observe his true power.

Azazel took a knee and felt a comforting sensation surround his recent wound. The quintessence in his body began sewing his torn tissue back together, and within seconds he was completely healed.

With that nagging pain out of the way, he stood up. He looked at the two brothers ahead of him...impressed.

He said, "I did not expect an attack like that to come from you Yanden. You didn't display that ability at Swampmarsh or against those slavers."

Yanden cautiously eyes his opponent. Samuel didn't display an ability to regenerate either...

He said, "When we first met Samuel we suspected that some evil force dwelled within him. So, I knew I couldn't show him all of my cards. Turns out I made the right decision."

"Besides, since when could you regenerate like that?"

Azazel shrugged his shoulders.

He said, "It happens naturally when I consume a large amount of quintessence. That princess was quite a delicious meal."

Yanden gripped his swords' hilts harder.

He screamed, "You bastard!"

Azazel broke into maniacal laughter.

"Muwahaha! Don't get so fed up you damn pirate! The battle has only begun!"

* * *

 **Hospital Ward...**

Dr. Swift groans. He has worried eyes, nagging back pain, a nose full of flower petals. His medical bay is full of injured soldiers and civilians and is well beyond capacity. A ward meant for 15 is now struggling to hold double that number.

Despite the severity of most of his patients' injuries; Dr. Swift is forced to work slow. His mana reserves have been licked dry due to his efforts to save the princess and his nurse, and so he was regulated to using up other forms of treatment. The floor was littered with dozens of used up vulnerary pouches, and the nurse in charge of picking them up is still unconscious.

He had brought in extra bedding with help from other staff, but still, some soldiers had to recover with nothing more than a blanket. It wasn't that there wasn't enough bedding in the castle to provide for all the wounded, it's just that having to go get them would put one at risk of devastating hellfire. Thus everyone was couped up in this small room, with no one but a few healthy troopers guarding the front door.

But the lack of space was the least of his worries.

He looks over at the two women unconscious at the edge of the room. Nervous soldiers gathered around the green princess, while Sain was praying over Taliyah. They both held faces that were oblivious to their audience, while the copious amount of sweat suggested they were fighting for their life.

Both had their life forces stolen, more so Lyn than Taliyah. Taliyah had the benefit of having some mana to buffer her loss before her attack was interrupted by Sain. Lyn had no such benefit, and she was nearly drained dry.

Nearly.

Azazel has every reason and the time to outright kill her, but somehow she still held on by a thread. A small mustard seed of life in her body kept her going.

Dr. Swift shook his head. He didn't question it. Right now all that mattered was the welfare of his patients.

"Is the princess going to be alright?"

Dr. Swift turned to see a young page. He recognized this page, he was the student to Sir Leon. Unfortunately, the page was alone. His knight had died during the encounter with Azazel.

Dr. Swift cleared his throat. He had to be honest.

He said, "I don't know. But I'll do my best."

The page nodded somberly and bowed his head.

He said, "Please do sir. She matters much to us pages. We'd be broken if she were to pass."

Dr. Swift sighed. It seemed like Lyn's life had touched many others for the better.

"Oh! One more thing. I found this earlier on the ground...I think it belongs to the princess."

The page went into his pocket and showed him a golden trinket. Its head was in the shape of a diamond, with a green ruby at its center. Lyn must've worn it underneath her shirt, and it was dropped when Kent transported her body here.

He took it and thanked the young boy.

"I'll make sure it goes to her."

Afterward, Dr. Swift placed the trinket by her bedside and returned to work. Nobody dared touch it, and it was ignored soon after in favor of the ailing princess before them.

Perhaps they shouldn't have. Had anyone been paying attention to the trinket, maybe they'd have seen the beginning of the jewel's faint, and subtle green glow.

* * *

Barthillas was out of breath. So was his brother. The duo leaned back on what was left of the castle wall nearby. The usually gray stone had been caked black, and ash made the air give off a terrible odor. The sky was gray due to the massive amounts of dust that was expelled into it, and the sun was nowhere to be seen.

Azazel was surrounded by a vortex of green, magical flame. It was endearingly hot to be near, and it vaporized anything that came into direct contact with it. The vortex gave off so much light that only the silhouette of the demon was visible inside of it.

The two brothers were backed in a corner. Both knew this could be their last.

With a wave of his hand, Azazel formed a clear hole through the vortex of fire. His body came into view, and the duo cautiously noted how well the demon's regenerative abilities worked. He hadn't even a scratch on his body, which came in great contrast to the battered physiques of his opponents.

His voice carried a kingly authority.

"You two have fought well...so tell me why must we fight? Wouldn't it be better if we fight together? So that we can create a kingdom that shall rule the world?"

Defiantly, Barthillas replied, "We cannot allow you to leave this place Azazel. Your tyranny in Fibernia is well-documented."

Yanden added, "A scourge like you can't be allowed to fester this world with your evil. You will fall today."

Azazel's eye twitched with annoyance. He never enjoyed being around honor-code men like these.

The hole closed up and obscured his body once more. The flames around him doubled in intesity, and the brothers were immediately hit with a wave of heat. The accompanying wind was so fierce that it swept Yanden off his feet.

The heavier Barthillas reached out towards him.

"Yanden!"

The pirate swung his sword into the air.

"Wall of Darkness!"

A barrier of dark magic formed in front of Barthillas. Due to the ferocity of the wind however, the wall was only able to protect a small area behind its direct vicinity. It formed a tiny cone sanctuary, one that did not protect Yanden from the elements.

One of his blades flew into the air and embedded itself in the ground out of reach. Yanden was able to dig the other into the ground and anchor himself to it. Behind stood the aftermentioned stone wall, one that if he were to hit it would likely kill him.

Barthillas looked at his options. At times like these, it was time.

Time to play his trump card.

Barthillas told Yanden, "Yanden! I have to use it!"

Yanden protested, "No! You can't! Just leave me to my fate!"

Barthillas pauses. Thing was, he had no other choice now. He had to take this risk.

You see, it was always implied that the two brothers were equal in strength. But that could be farther from the truth. Although Yanden the Shadow Swordsman was powerful, his abilities were outmatched by the true nature of Barthillas' abilities. After all, the light was omniscient to all things, while darkness is simply the opposite of light.

Barthillas slammed his holy hammer into the ground.

He shouted, "Sacrificial Light!"

Suddenly, a beam of light erupted from the sky. It landed onto the holy knight, and he underwent a grand transformation.

His armor changed to one that was made of light. It morphed into a reptilian-like form, similar to dragon scales. His face was completely covered by a thick helm, and his gauntlets doubled in size. Fellbringer, his hammer, had runes sketched onto the head that revealed intricate shapes.

When it was done, the light subsided revealing an incredibly powerful knight. The pride of his family, the second son.

Azazel nearly vomited when he read the massive amount of energy emitting from his opponent. The mana overloaded his sense, and it took him a moment to recapture his bearings.

He knew time was running out. He had to end this now!

He extended both of his hands forward. He relayed the rest of his power into this next blow.

This was going to be his last-ditch effort to win. Only one man between him and the world. He was ready to throw his Hail Mary.

He exclaimed, "ELFIRE!"

A massive beam of brutal fire erupted from his fingertips. It stopped briefly at Yanden's wall of darkness, but then overtook it immediately.

Barthillas held on tightly onto his mighty hammer. It was time to do his duty.

Barthillas screamed, "Omniscient Vengence!"

From his standing start, he immediately charged towards Azazel. Light encased his entire body, and he rammed through the demon's magical attack. His armor dissipated the flames with ease, and soon enough he was within striking distance.

Azazel places his hand on Barthillas' chest. No matter how much armor he may have, nothing could block a powerful shotgun attack.

But nothing came. His body refused to provide him with the necessary mana. Save for some tiny reserves, he had used up all his mana.

He had reached his limit.

With ferocious eyes, Barthillas raised his hammer. He swung it at the direction of the demon's head.

He exclaimed, "Holy Smite!"

Azazel raised his arms to block the blow...using whatever mana he had left to try to cushion it. But it was no use. His arms crushed like paper, and his head kicked back like a rubber band.

Lightning erupted from the sky. The force of the blow was so great that Azazel was thrown a mile into the air. He flew over the horizon and vanished from view.

Barthillas caught his breath. Yanden picked himself up from the floor.

There was a comforting silence that filled what used to be a castle's hallway. No birds chirped in the sky, and the sounds of nature were still. Nothing could be heard but the wind sending more dust into the atmosphere.

Barthillas stood still, and Yanden walked up to his brother. Both were battered, and their clothing was in tatters. The family crest that was engraved in the breastplate and shoulder guards respectively had been destroyed. One of Yanden's blades was cracked, and Barthillas' hammer still had blood at the impact point. When it was all said and done, they were glad the battle was over.

But both understood their job was far from done.

Barthillas returned to his normal state, and his armor crumpled into a jangled mess. Only his shin guards and hammer remained intact.

Yanden said, "You did well brother...but I do believe we agreed that we wouldn't kill him."

Barthillas slowly nodded his head. His lower body did not move an inch.

He said, "Yes...but I know that blow did not kill him. We need to go find him. We ne-"

Suddenly, Barthillas' tunic went red with his own blood. Yanden was horrified when thousands of tiny cuts appeared on his body.

He fell onto the ground with a loud thud. He went unconscious as his brother hastily attempted to administer an elixir.

This was the cost of Sacrificial Light. The armor conjured in the attack was never meant for human usage, rather it was meant for the dragons that fought humans in the scouring. Should a human attempt to use the armor, the armor will eventually reject its owner, causing great harm. Barthillas only ever meant it as a last resort.

Gambling was forbidden in his knight's code. But at least, in this case, his little bet seemed to have paid off.

* * *

 **Nearby...**

Shiloh and Laals were hurriedly racing down the road at breakneck speed. Their wagon was empty of all illicit cargo, and the gray sky did nothing to lighten the mood. The surrounding forest was devoid of all life, and the only thing that could be heard was the rumbling of their vehicle.

Shiloh said, "Laals drive faster! We have to outrun those border agents! I'm not about to go back to jail!"

Laals shot back, "I'm trying! These old horses can only go so fast damnit!"

The border agents were a few minutes away on their tail. They had managed to buy themselves some time when Shiloh lied to the customs official, but they would have caught onto their bluff by now. They had to leave Caelin, and fast...

BUMP!

The cart ran into something hard, and it caused the right wheel to dislodge. Without it, the cart fell onto the ground and quickly made a bumpy stop. Somehow, neither the men nor their horses were hurt.

Shiloh exclaimed, "Damnit Laals! I told you to watch the road!"

Laals dumbly replied, "You did not! You told me to go fast! So what if I had to make a shortcut over a rock?"

Shiloh looked back at the object that had caused them so much trouble. His eyes widened.

"Laals...that's no rock. It's a guy."

Laals replied, "Wait a minute...isn't that the guy we dumped in Sacae? I thought he was dead."

Shiloh waved away his partner, "Well obviously he ain't. I'm not about to make the same mistake twice. I'll take him, and you fix the wagon. Do we still have the elixir in the medical box?"

Laals nodded his head, "Yeah we do. Looks like your going to need it to fix up his jaw. I guess I'll try to fix the wheel then."

"Then get on it."

Shiloh began making his way to the man. When he picked him up, he noted his black hair and the shattered remnants of an obsidian mask.

Afterward, he dumped the man into the back of the wagon and helped his companion fix the wheel. Within a minute to spare, they were able to complete the task and return to the road; this time with Shiloh behind the reins.

Although their passenger didn't know it, the destination was not Araphen of even a city in Lycia itself. Shiloh has had enough with these posh, law-abiding people.

The final stop was the bastion of lawlessness that the duo had enjoyed for a long time. The great nation of Sacae.


	35. Concussion

**Chapter 31: Concussion**

 **By SodiumChloride12, derived from Fire Emblem, owned by Nintendo.**

 **A/N: Small brain play by me guys. I'm currently in vacation in Florida with this week's newest installment of SOMAB when I realize I have no manner of editing! I did my best with the mobile app, but I'm certain that I missed something. I'll finish up the editing when I get home on Tuesday, but y'all are just going to have to bear with me.**

 **Also it's the last week of the poll. Make sure to vote! Next week I'll be uploading a 500 word sneak peak of the new series in conjunction with the new installment.**

 **N: ...**

* * *

Lyn heard voices. Not the ones you hear when people whispered above your hallucinating body, but the type that sent a chill down your spine. The kind that gave you nightmares.

She _saw_ things. They weren't new experiences, rather these were all too familiar to the young sacaen. They were visions of a terrifying time, a time she'd much rather relegate to the depths of her subconscious.

She saw her father, her mother, and her tribe. She relived the moment of their demise in this dream state of hers, and afterward, she would repeat all the hardship that followed after.

If experiencing that once again was unbearable, then doing so in a repeat for an unrecognizable amount of time was pure torture. She would reach out towards the people she loved, only for them to disappear into dust. Green flames permeated the very fabric of her mind, and one central figure was always present. Her villain, the one person responsible for all of this.

Azazel. Before, she hesitated in bringing her full might against him, but now she did not hold such conflictions anymore. With each repetition of these events, she gradually began to make up her mind. By the time she woke up surrounded by her grandfather and friends, she had already come to her decision.

Azazel must die. No matter the cost. Even at the cost of him. At this point, she was willing to pay any price to avenge her people.

* * *

 **?...**

 _Ugh...where am I?_

Waking up, Azazel was surrounded by darkness. His head throbbed with pain, and his mind was in shambles. The cold autumn wind brushed up against his skin, and his hands rested on a wood surface. He could hear a rickety structure, and he surmised that he was on some sort of vehicle.

His mind was fragmented. It was difficult to put anything together, much less reason. Despite that, however, he could make out the faint voices of two men.

One man said, "We're almost there Laals. Get ready. I have the knife in hand just in case the deal goes south. I'll do all the talking while you watch their hands. Give me the signal if you suspect they'll betray us."

Laals replied, "Why do you worry about them Shiloh? We've worked with these people before."

Shiloh disagreed, "Those men before were the Ganelon bandits. This is the Taliver we're dealing with. If they suspect we're up to something, they won't hesitate to crucify us on their mountain."

Laals spoke with a frightened tone.

"C-Crucify? I thought we stopped doing that ages ago?!"

Shiloh replied, "We did, but they decided to bring it back. Something about the cruel and agonizing entertains them. They're the worst sort of people to deal with. If they didn't pay top dollar, I'd stay far away from that mountain..."

 _The Taliver? Why does that name sound familiar?_

Azazel felt dizzy. The already hazy atmosphere took in another layer of fog. The two men's conversation sounded like nothing but mumbles to him.

"Mrmph. La fa se..."

Through the mumbo jumbo, there was one lingering question in his broken mind. One that seemed awfully familiar.

 _Who...am I?_

The fog quickly became a dominating force, and soon enough he was unconscious again. His two captors were never aware of his brief waking moment.

* * *

 **Ostia...**

Darkness creeped through Castle Ostia. Nothing could be heard through its long, echoed hallways. All except one thing. Traveling through the stone labyrinth, past a large cast-iron door, there stood four souls. Despite the lateness of the evening, they were conducting very important business.

Words cannot describe the amount of anger seething through the very fabric of Marquess Ostia. With his hands clasped together, he mustered his best-composed persona as he listened to Matthew's report atop his throne.

He was in the castle's royal chamber. Sitting on his royal chair he was flanked by a duo of Ostia's finest. They wore armor that was incredibly thick and tough, with equally as intimidating spears for weaponry. Despite the helmets that covered their faces, they were all but oblivious to the meeting between the marquess and his subject. Both wore wads of cloth inside of their ears, preserving the confidentiality of the subject matter.

"King Azazel has manifested within the tactician. Upon doing so he immediatly went on a rampage that eliminated any defensive capacity held by the garrison in Castle Caelin. He inflicted massive casualties, with the dead counting for about 50 souls while the injured is half that number. The injured include Lady Lyndis and the two contractors we've hired in Swampmarsh..."

He flipped to the next page in his lengthy report. Matthew reminisced on how long it took for him to get all this information incognito.

"About 200 feet of stone in Castle Carlin's western wall has collapsed. Several fires have been started and extinguished in the surrounding forests. So much soot and ash were expelled into the air that the sun wasn't visible for a week. The..."

Uther raised his hand. Matthew stopped speaking.

"Enough. What will the marquess do about this?"

Matthew cleared his throat and went to the last page of his report. This was where he put his lord's desired item.

He said, "The nobility has not yet released a statement, though according to private circles, Lord Hausen is furious. He's expected to release a statement later this week denouncing Azazel and offering a reward for anyone that can bring him his head."

A stressful bead of sweat goes down Uther's brow.

This entire operation was a complete and utter failure. Not only did they fail to receive the service they required from the tactician, but he's become a walking liability.

He feels a sinking feeling in his gut when he thought of the scandal that would ensue if anyone were to discover Ostia's ties to Azazel.

He said, "Tell me Matthew. Has Lyn told anyone of our involvement?"

He shook his head, "No...she hasn't. But there's no telling what she'll do when she wakes up from her coma. With Mark currently missing in action, we've recently lost the leverage we've been using to keep her quiet."

If Lyn were to show her grandfather the letter he sent her earlier, disaster would ensue. He would be forced to address the embarrassing issue, and Ostia would lose face. His own people may even revolt should they discover his dubious actions.

Uther said, "We can not afford to let her speak. I need you to secure her silence."

Matthew rolls back on his heels. That was quite the request.

Matthew asked, "Pardon milord, but how do I go about doing that? We'd have to give her a reason to stay silent."

Uther takes a deep breath. He was going to have give her something that went against the traditional rules of spymastering. But he knows that given the current situation, this was the only thing he could offer to get what he needed.

Hell, he might even knock out two birds with one stone.

He said, "Tell her we know the location of the demon she wants to destroy. If she cooperates, then we'll grant her information she desires."

Matthew scoffed, "B-But milord! We don't know where he is right now! Surely she'll call our bluff!"

Uther slams his hand on the armrest of his throne. He shook the very foundation of it.

Uther replied, "I suspect it won't take long for the best spy agency in the world to find him correct? In the amount of time it takes for us to communicate by letter, along with some efficient stalling, we can find Azazel."

Uther calmed his nerves. He knew it was wrong of him to scold his thief, but he needed to release some pent up frustration.

Matthew could feel his head sink between his collar. Uther's temper rarely ever flared up, but he knew that when it did, the receiving party was usually put on a tight leash. He had to do everything in his power to please his lord.

Matthew spoke with a timid tone, "Y-Yes sir! I'll get right on it!"

Uther added, "I want every available agent involved in this. This mission will become our greatest priority. My reign rides on this cover-up."

Uther gazes upon a mural that decorated the wall opposite of him. It depicted the first direct marquess of Ostia, Lord Henry, dressed in full armor leading his troops into war against plainclothes peasants. The people of the county were taught that this scene depicted Henry's battle against heretical Justinites, in a crusade to protect the mainstream church. But only the nobility know the truth. Although it was true a minority of the peasant army consisted of Justinites, the majority consisted of simple farmers who wanted to pay less tax during a brutal winter. The numerically inferior forces led by Henry almost lost, had it not been for the services of a skilled, unnamed tactician.

Matthew saluted his lord and took his leave. His mind raced with the logistics involved in fulfilling Marquess Ostia's orders.

"One more thing Matthew! Should you or anybody else find Mark/Azazel, you have my order to kill on sight."

"At this point, it's better off for us for him to be six feet underground."

Matthew looked back his lord. He nodded his head, with his cool eyes reassuring Uther of his loyalty.

"Yes milord. It will be done."

* * *

Azazel did nothing when he saw money change hands. Nor did he protest when strange men fixed a pair of chains to his arms, wrists, and legs. When the men called out his new name, "Jereme", all he did was look at them blindly. He didn't understand why they threatened to beat him with a switch if he didn't repeat that name to him.

He was thrown into a small cage inside of a cave. It damp and dark, with rats occasionally coming by to bite the unsuspecting. He could hear crying and the occasional wail from his new steel coffin. He wondered why they would do so, especially since they were given free food everyday. They even had some friendly bats to keep them company.

After a couple of weeks, the strange men returned and they put him in a bigger room with more people. The people here were more silent than in the other room, and they listened to every word the strange men had to say. Azazel simply concluded that was the way things worked around here, and his simple mind did his best to blend in. He'd be the best worker around here, and then maybe the strange men wouldn't threaten him anymore.

He did that for a couple more weeks. But after suffering a beating at the hands of one they called Ernak, Azazel began to question things. Why were these strange men harming him when he did everything in his power to make them happy? It didn't any sense...you'd think it'd be in their best interest for them to reward good behavior.

One day, while he was eating a primitive meal made up of nearby fish and bread, he met a two new friends. One of them was a smaller girl, with fair skin and snowy white hair. The other was women a bit older than him with green hair. Both heavily gave Azazel a sense of deja vu.

Keeping her voice down, the older lady extended her hand in greeting.

She said, "Hello...my name is Maria and this is my friend Lani. Who must you be mister?"

Azazel was barely aware enough to answer her question. He did not have the mental capacity to answer it.

He said, "I-I don't know. You two seem the well-mannered lot. Tell me...where am I?"

Maria gave a puzzled look. She looked like he had just asked a question with an obvious answer.

She replied, "Erm...we'd be in Taliver mountain. Sir... are you alright? You seem a bit aloof."

Azazel shook his head, "N-No...it's just...my head hurts and I can't think straight. I think I need a doctor."

Maria said, "A doctor? I'm afraid you won't be able to see one here. They won't send one for a measly slave like us."

Slave. Even after the conversation was done, that word rang out in his mind for days. What was the meaning of that word? Was it...bad?

On his one month anniversary at Taliver mountain, the strange men offered him an unusual, but lenient task. Instead of spending his day cooking meals, mining ores, or performing other hard labor, he was to salt some meat for the fast approaching winter. Thus, he was led to a shack full of bloody meats, and left with a large bag of salt.

Azazel didn't know how to salt meat, but he could try. He dug his finger into the bag of salt, and noted the dry, irritating, and coarse texture it held.

Dry. Irritating. Like sand.

Suddenly, Azazel realized he hated salt. With a passion.

He threw down the salt and the bag broke, with the minerals scattering into millions of tiny little pieces. Much of it squeezed through the openings in the floor, which due to the shack's elevation was visible to the guards outside.

Azazel looked at himself, and the thick fog that covered his mind subsided, even if only a little. He observed his hands, which were heavily calloused due to the manual labor he was forced to perform.

Was this the life that a proper king should live? Why was he laboring for the entrails of society when they should be laboring for him?

It was at that moment that Azazel realized who he was. He hardly had a moment to think about his situation when the door to the shack burst open.

It was Ernak. His black hair was messily arranged a top his head like a mop, and he held a sword in his right hand.

He bellowed, "That's enough with your crap! That bag of salt cost us a fortune! I'll have your head for this!"

He charged at the demon king. His large body tumbled through the cheap furniture that surrounded him, and he swung his sword at Azazel with all his might. With his utmost certainty, Azazel understood his intent was to kill.

Clink!

Azazel grabbed onto the blade with his bare hand. The metal was so blunt that all it did was cause some minor bruising, but it did hurt. He instinctively made for the dagger that he had stashed in his cloak, but it was gone. His dagger, his mask, and his prized pocket watch had all been stolen by these greedy bandits.

Azazel gazed into the eyes of his aggressor. He looked into those frightened orbs with a fire that could light a forest.

He focused some mana into his hands, and with a quick blow he crushed the blade beneath his fingers. Then he took one of the shattered shards of iron and implanted it deep into the eye socket of his tormentor.

Ernak opened his mouth to scream, but nothing came out. Azazel closed it shut with his hand and delivered the killing blow to his heart. He fell onto the floor still, and Azazel left him there. He would be dead within 5 minutes.

He left the building and observed with cold eyes the treasury tent that held his valuables. Then, he gazed upon the hundred or so unsuspecting people going about their day. Slavers and slaves, innocent and the damned. All would see their maker. All would become subject to his hellish wrath.

* * *

 **?…**

I took in a deep breath and looked at the situation before me. I smiled.

I was in a familiar place. Brown chestnuts were roasting over an idle fireplace. Stockings from the recent holiday still hung nearby, with their pouches empty of all goodies. A large, plastic, green evergreen tree gave off colorful light as a black chihuahua rolled underneath it. Balloons with the number "18" printed on them littered the ceiling of the large living room.

I was surrounded by family. My parents, a sibling, and countless cousins along with aunts and uncles. To my right was a cousin I was fairly close with; a stout, chubby young man I had played high school ball with. To my left was my younger sister, who was persistently sounding off a noisemaker into my ear. In front of me was a large white cake, and it had red icing that spelled out my name.

My mother emerged from the crowd with a large knife. I flinched momentarily, but then I remembered that I had nothing to fear. The knife was meant for the cake.

She gave me a brief hug with left arm, and I blushed in embarrassment. My best friend in the crowd giggled as she saw the motherly gesture. I was a mama's boy, and I could already visualize the Discord memes honoring this very moment.

"Mijo, you should blow out your candles."

I obliged, and with one big gust of wind I extinguished the two candles that read "18" on my cake. I smiled and awkwardly looked around as friends and family celebrated in my name. Through it, I couldn't help but smile.

The crowd joined in unison, "Que lo muerda! Que lo muerda! [Bite the cake!]"

Always one to please the crowd, I neared my head by the cake once more. Situations like these always ever had one outcome.

SPLAT!

With the massive force expected from a 220lb lineman, my cousin slammed my head into the cake. My face went into it like butter, and the white icing made me look like the Netflix adaptation of Frosty the Snowman.

I lifted my head from my white tomb. The room around was silenced when I revealed to them my new bloody nose. Behind me, my cousin instantly felt a wave along regret.

I couldn't help but chuckle.

I playfully placed my arm around him, and began laughing. One by one, the aura shifted from one of regret to one of fun and goodwill.

Of course we couldn't eat a quarter of the cake anymore, but that didn't matter. What was significant was that I was spending some proper time with my family, and enjoying myself as well. After reassuring my parents that my nose was fine, I rushed over to the restroom to wash away the sugary crimson.

 **...**

Coming back to the living room, I realized the environment had changed. I was alone now, with all my nameless relatives nothing but a memory. The ruined cake, balloons, and TV tuned to a news channel was still there, but now there was only one other person with me.

"So this is where you've come."

She was a shorter girl with point ears that made her resemble an elf. Her dress was exotic in nature, and she looked no older than 12 years of age. Her hair was ridiculously long and looked it hadn't been cut since birth, and the green greatly contrasted with the brown wood table she stood near. Her green eyes suggested some serious inflection.

I raised my brow in curiousity, and scratched the back of my head.

I said, "Excuse me m'am...have we met?"

The girl pouted, "W-What? It hasn't been that long has it? I swear that accent of yours still feels fresh to me."

I shrugged my shoulders.

I said, "I think I would have remembered green haired girls with pointy ears."

She paused for a moment of thought. The dimples on her face definitely makes her look like a child.

She snaps her fingers and I get caught off guard. A red vortex of flame surrounds her, obscuring my view.

She said, "Maybe this will jog your memory."

The flames subside, and I balked at the completely different person in front of me. She had reddish skin, fiery orange hair, and a dress that made her resemble of woman of the cloth.

She was the fair maiden of Próxima Centauri. My mouth goes wide with shock.

The maiden laughed, "Close your mouth Samuel. A fly could waltz in there."

I reply with a stuttering voice.

"W-What h-how?!"

She shrugged her shoulders.

"I'm a goddess so...perks like these come with the job."

I shoot my finger at her.

"If you could always maintain this form then why even bother with the other one then?"

The maiden had an annoyed expression on her face.

"This form takes more mana to maintain. When a demon is taking up most of your mana power...you've got to make certain decisions. Speaking about that demon, he's the reason why I've come here."

I took a step back.

I said, "I think I'd rather not."

That statement shocked the maiden. Recognizing the opportunity, I made a dash outside the house.

She extended her hand towards me but all it clings to was empty air. I open the door and instead of seeing the bright Texan sun, I was rewarded with a solid wall of pitch darkness.

It was surreal. I waded my hand through it, and it felt liquid in nature. It wasn't warm nor cold, and it didn't tug at my skin. It was like air, with nothing but the slight resistance it gave suggesting it was otherwise.

The maiden said, "You're cornered. This room is only a memory, and it ends past that door."

I readied myself for what I was about to do.

I replied, "Perhaps, but that doesn't mean I can't take a leap of faith."

I turned towards her and waved goodbye. I followed up by taking a single step backwards, and falling into the void.

She exclaimed, "What?! Don't jump!"

She reached out towards me again, but I disappeared through the door. As gravity began taking me down, her orange silhouette became nothing but a small star in the night sky.

The void around me morphed, and the black became something new. I stopped falling, and my feet slowly glided onto artificial grass. Bright, electric light revealed a large rectangular field with uprights at each end. To the side, there were bleachers full of people wearing our school colors; blue and black. Two lines of humanity formed at the halfway mark of the field, and I was lined up against a taller fellow who was looking at me with intimidating eyes.

The score read "20-21", and the timer "0:03". It was the final quarter, and there was just enough time for one more play.

"Hike!"

I erupted from my set position and breezed the covering man easily. I closed the distance quickly, and soon enough I was at the 30 yard line. Seeing the ball come towards my direction like missile gave me a rush of adrenaline, and I leaped up to get it. Lowering my eyes down, I spied the enemy cornerback and safety about to level me down to the ground. I caught the ball, and winced as I prepared myself to take the biggest hit of my life.

WACK!

I pause for a second and realizeI was still standing. I quickly looked behind me to see the safety and the corner on the ground. The safety was so preoccupied with bringing me down that he didn't see his teammate nearby, and he tackled him instead. There was nothing but a sea of green and white ahead.

I waltz into the open end zone, and was rewarded with a concert of celebratory screaming and clapping. Our team's quarterback rushed over, and we embraced in a hug. The rest of team followed nearby, and we broke into a taunting, if unsportsmanlike dance. The men in black and white threw a yellow flag onto our feet, but the opposing team's fate was set.

We had won. I was happy to be around my teammates, my friends. The people I had worked so hard with. The people I toiled with so that we could upset this playoff bound team.

I didn't want this moment to end. The happiness I felt was immeasurable, and I could feel all my worries wash away.

But it had to. After about a minute of this the noise abruptly stopped. Panicking, I look around to see everyone but the referee had disappeared. The referee was within an arm's distance, and he took my moment of confusion to grab my arm.

I pulled away and easily overpowered him.

I said, "Get away from me!"

The referee removed his hat from his head. A bountiful amount of green hair flowed from it. Turns out he was a she.

The maiden said, "You're a hard person to find."

She looked around the field that was so foreign to her.

She asked, "A weird game. You hit each other to try to score points. Sort of like the gladiators of old."

 _How did this girl follow me?_

I kept a cautious distance from her. I look over at the void forming past the bleachers and considered making a dash for it.

I replied, "How did you find me? I was told nobody would find me in here."

She rolled her eyes.

"Who do you take me for? I've been in here for several months. When you have as much free time as I do you really begin learn where everything goes."

She pointed towards the void by the bleachers. It was a solid black wall, with no visible light. On first glance it could have easily been mistaken for night.

"For instance, you were thinking of going through that wall right? I'll have you know that I'm aware that it'll take you to a club meeting you had in university."

She shifts her gaze over to me. The green orbs were unwavering.

"You can't escape me. I want to talk."

Sighing, I reserved myself to my fate. I removed my helmet and placed it on the ground.

The maiden noticed that I was now willing to oblige to her request. Her tense shoulders relaxed when she realized she wasn't going to have to chase me.

She said, "Now, Azazel is causing quite the problem with your body. We need to develop a plan put you in contro-"

I cut her off mid-sentence.

"Not interested."

She pauses and tilts her head. She was not expecting that answer.

She said, "Excuse me?"

I replied, "I'm not interested in getting my body back. Azazel can do whatever he wants with it."

Her face morphs into one of disgust. Her voice sounded like she had just recieved a malicious insult.

"How can you say that?! Azazel is killing people. He's attacked your friends! He's rampaging through th-"

I shot back coldly, "Not my problem."

The maiden was flabbergasted. She couldn't believe what she was hearing.

I look her dead in the eye. It was the same gaze I gave the late Emperor in Carazan.

I said, "It's never been, and never will be my responsibility to look after those people."

"I don't care what happens to them. The world has been so cruel to me that I don't care anymore. Allowing a little bit more evil to infect it isn't going to make a difference."

The maiden pleaded, "But surely someone in this world is going to step up and defeat Azazel? In that case you'll die with him. Don't you have any sense of self preservation?"

I shot back, "I honestly don't care if he dies. No...in fact I hope he does. The sooner he does the quicker my suffering will end."

Digging my face into my hands, I feel wet tears begin to fall down my cheeks.

I said, "I've been through so much miss. When I was on the road with Lyn's Legion, a man claiming to be my father told me I had family. I was so excited when I heard this I just _thought_ that maybe...MAYBE I wasn't alone in this world. Not only was he lying, but he abused my trust to harm me. Afterward, I'm forced to conceal my identity to protect myself from a society that wants my head for something I had no control over. Do you know how it feels to have wake up everyday fearing for your life? Can you fathom the sense of sorrow I go through every day playing the part of someone that isn't 100% the real me?!"

I paused for moment. The green-haired in front of me was speechless.

I continued, "All I wanted was a family...brother, sister, anybody that could share my problems with. I had so many family members in my old life that I didn't realize who I had until they were gone. I found someone who could fill that void in my life. She shared my ostracism; all because this damn continent won't stop living in the past. Had Lumina told anyone that she was half-manakete than she and her sister would have been lynched in a heartbeat."

"We'd share our pain under the moonlight...something I couldn't do with anyone else. She _understood_ me...and I understood her. I love her like my own sister...but now she's gone. Her body is rotting away in a tomb and it's all my fault."

With a worried expression, the maiden said, "That's not true! You had Lyn..."

I disagreed, "That used to be the case...but not anymore. Azazel's actions have complicated things...and now I feel like I can't open up to her anymore. She's said it herself...she wants to kill him. You and I both know that the only way to kill him would be to kill me as well. She knows that as well...and eventually she'll do the one thing her culture mandates. She'll cut me down...like the many soldiers before her."

I reminisced about the many battles I've fought and survived in.

"I'm directly and indirectly responsible for so many deaths. I've become so good at it that I've become numb. I don't think about all the lives I've ended...or the loved ones they've left behind. All I was focused about was my goals...and anyone that stood in my way perished. Funny thing was...it seemed like I wasn't the only person that did this. All around were fellow soldiers that would brag about the amount of people they've killed. I'd be a lier if I didn't say I partook in such sinful actions as well."

"But that all changed in Carazan. There the stakes were much higher, and the fighting so much more fierce. I saw first hand the extent of my actions...and I realized the severity of my profession. I saw a child...a living breathing child...with his right arm blown off. I can never forget how his mangled body was drenched in blood. It haunts my dreams, but it taught me a valuable lesson. I was no tactician...not even an honorable soldier. I was nothing more than scum...a faux angel of death."

I wiped my wet tears from my face. Looking away, I was too ashamed to look at her face to face.

"I'm...I'm tired m'am. I'm tired of war. I'm tired of the pain. I'm tired of losing people I care about. I never want to set foot in another battlefield again...but I know that people are going to seek me out for that specific purpose..."

"I don't want to be a weapon anymore. I don't want to be putting my body on the line, and most of all I don't want my fate taken away from me. My liberty is the only thing I truly own in this world...and without it I have nothing. Otherwise, I'm no one. Just a nameless grunt whose life carries no worth. A tool to be used until it is broken."

I finish my emotional rant and went silent. I could sense my audience member's green orbs fixated on me, though she was speechless.

After several moments of prolonged idleness, she finally broke the silence.

"I...I don't know what to say. I'm...sorry,"

She eases her way over to me, and places her right hand over my shoulder pad. Without context, the scene could have been interpreted as something entirely unusual.

She spoke with words that flowed like molasses. It was pleasant...comforting even.

"How long have you been feeling this way?"

I replied, "For so long. I've kept telling myself it was okay...that I can just tough through it. I'd make decisions without thinking about what effect they'd have on others. But it caught up to me so fast. The bloody child, my extended time under enslavement, Lumina's death. It's too much to bear...I...I think I'm going mad."

She replied, "Oh Samuel..."

I recoiled, "Wait...What are you doing?!"

I felt two warm arms wrap around my body. She leaned forward and I did nothing as when we fell onto the hard turf. The concrete underneath did nothing to soften the blow.

THUD!

"Ow!"

She smiles awkwardly. It was obvious she thought there was soft dirt underneath.

"S-Sorry! I just thought..."

I replied, "No it's fine. It didn't hurt that much. Besides...why'd you decide to do that anyway?"

The goddess continued to have her arms around me. Her long, puffy green hair felt like a blanket and calmed my anxiety even further.

She said, "I just felt like you needed a hug. Was I wrong to assume that?"

I shook my head, "No...this actually makes me feel a lot better. Thank you...I needed this."

She lifted herself from the ground and extends her hand towards me, which I accepted. My feet were now flat with the earth again, although black beads of turf jiggled within my soles.

The maiden cleared her throat.

"I want you to understand that you're not alone in your suffering. Since we inhabit the same body...I too have witnessed the same experiences that you have."

"I was there when you were kicked out of the legion in Caelin. I was there when you got impaled by the Sword Demon...and when you were toiling in the salt mines of Nabata."

She grabs my hand.

"But I was wrong to assume that you'd go through all that just fine. I didn't put into account your emotions...or any regret you may be living with. It was wrong for me to ask for your help when you already put up with so much."

She sighs.

"Nevertheless, I find myself doing just that. You must take back control of your body and stop Azazel. Forget about doing it for the good of others and focus on doing it for the good of you. You still have a long life to live Samuel, and you haven't bore witness to much of the good that the world is capable of."

She points towards the area around us. The green football field, and the vacant gray bleachers.

"You don't have very many quality memories left Samuel. The concussions you've suffered have secured that, and eventually the day will come where you're surrounded with nothing but darkness. Your life...our lives...will end in this prison. All because of decisions we've made in the past."

She was referencing a choice she made centuries ago. Although I didn't know what it was, it was clear that she'd been spending a long time regretting it.

Tears were beginning to form around her eyes as well. She let them fall, and didn't bother wiping them away.

She said, "Please...I understand that this is too much to ask...but please go back. Not just for yourself...but for me as well. I have people waiting for me back home."

Home...did I really have a home? I'd always been on the road...so I didn't really have one. I couldn't even claim my home was with my friends, because it seemed everyone was only friendly to me to accomplish some hidden motive.

But still, it was wrong for me to rob that from her. I know how it's like to have a family and lose it. Besides...

How could I say no to that face?

I sigh.

"Fine...you've convinced me."

A large smile went across her face, and her ears perked up. She leaps up into the air.

"Yes! I knew I could count on you!"

When she landed on the ground she hugged me again. My face went red with embarrassment.

She lifts her head from my chest.

"Wait...how exactly are we going to get you in control?"

I bite my lip.

"Well...I have a bit of a confession to make..."

 **...**

 **November 1st...**

Laying awake in my blankets, I could feel the dominating influence of alcohol fade away. This was not a welcome sight, and the pain I craved to avoid returned.

It came back in increments. First, it felt like a knife had cut through my stomach. Then came the ankle, joint, and shoulder pain. Finally the worst arrived, and millions of tiny sharp knives surrounded the circumference of my head.

I stayed there for a long time; the constant pain making it impossible to sleep. Ticking seconds became minutes, which quickly became hours. It gave my idle mind enough time to contemplate about my past. I thought about the young boy in Carazan, the gallons of blood spilt under my orders, and the death of the one I considered my sister. Lastly, I thought about what Matthew had said to me earlier.

 _We can speak about your future assignment in coming days._

With my stomach churning, I thought about all the future misery I'd have to endure. Would I be able to bear it? Or would I become cold and heartless like so many other generals in history?

In thing was certain, I did not want to return to war. I hated it...and wanted no part in it.

But how would I do that? If I ran away they'd just catch me before I left Lycia...and I'm too weak to take my fate in my own hands. I'd become nothing more than a tool to Matthew's employer. Just an asset to be spent...with no regard to my personal interests or wellbeing.

I'd wanted to go find Laniakea...but that's impossible now. I can't do anything now. Why am I so useless?!

I slam my fist into my pillow. Then I do it again. And again. Although I knew this was stupid, it did lessen up my frustration if only a little.

 _ **A:** If it's a way out you seek...I'll be happy to provide that._

I stop what I was doing and sat upright on my bed. Looking towards the window, I noticed that the sun was beginning to poke above the horizon. I had stayed up all night.

 **M:** I'm listening...

 **...**

The maiden said, "I see you've fallen for one of Azazel's deals. I'd be disappointed...but I had fallen for one as well in the past."

"What matters right now as that we begin to fix this. You'll likely face the consequences of your actions, but it's not my place to judge."

I frowned. Whatever mess Azazel had gotten himself into was likely going to be very traumatic to get through. But I'll manage.

I hope.

The maiden said, "You should leave soon."

I agreed, and began walking myself towards the void. There was a very particular channel I had to go through to take back my body, and considering there were dozens to choose from, it was going to take some time.

Before I began my labor, I turned back towards the green goddess. She was alone in the large green field, and I felt a sting of pity. I was likely the first person she'd talked to in a long time, and would likely be the last before she got the opportunity to go home.

"Hey fair maiden! Before I get lost in this muck of black, I'd like to ask you something."

Her head tilted slightly to the side.

"Sure...anything."

I asked, "I never got the pleasure of your name. Do you mind sharing it with me?"

She pauses for a second, as if contemplating whether or not she should tell me. It didn't take long for her to make up her mind, and she gave me that same unforgettable smile.

"My name is Sothis. Pleased to make your acquaintance."


	36. Cleaved

**Chapter 32: Cleaved**

 **By SodiumChloride12, derived from Fire Emblem, owned by Nintendo.**

 **A/N: Thanks to everybody that bore through the issue I had last year. I have since fixed it. At the end of the chapter, I've provided an excerpt for my upcoming series. I appreciate y'all's support!**

* * *

 **?...**

Was I...an accomplice to this monster's crimes? An enabler...someone who allowed this man to kill whoever he pleased?

I'm surrounded by burning tents and buildings, all of which contained that signature green hue. Isolated cries for help choked out through the thick smoke, with dogs and other animals attempting to make their escape. Ash and soot litter the uneven, rocky ground. Looking down, I realize blood stains my purple garb, with it turning into a haunting magenta.

This is all very reminiscent of a certain scene I had been pushing away for a long time. The moment when Azazel wiped out the entire Lorca tribe; an entire culture turned into nothing but gray ash. I had successfully pushed past the trauma associated with that memory, but right now it seemed like I would have to do it all over again.

I press my back against the gray tent that had somehow not turned into ash yet. Blood and bodies were everywhere, a mixture of Taliver and their non-deserving victims. Azazel had indiscriminately cut down anything that moved in this bandit camp, going so far to even harm the two people he suspected that I'd wanted nowhere near this carnage...

 _Oh no..._

Maria and Laniakea. Some of Azazel's memories were coming to me slowly, but I knew that at one point that demon considered these people as his friends. Despite that, he didn't even flinch when he knowingly ignited this tent and allowed a nearby building to collapse onto it. Not even when he knew this was their living quarters.

Now here I was, looking at the dead body of Maria and the dying Laniakea. She's losing a lot of blood, and if I didn't stop it she'd die within minutes...

BOOM!

Instinctively, I dive towards the still breathing little girl. My back burns hot as the shack where they kept all the whiskey explodes into a ferocious inferno. Stomaching the intense wave of fear, my heart beats against my chest like a series of fierce punches, but I manage to survive unscathed.

 _All right...it's fine. Azazel isn't here...the whiskey must've caught fire. You just need to..._

I beckon my limbs to move, but they refuse to budge. My heart continues to beat uncontrollably, and my hands quivered. I try to control my breathing, but my lungs refuse to calm. It was at this moment that I realized something had come over me; I'm helpless against this stiffening aura of fear.

I'm...having a panic attack.

 _Calm down, Samuel! You need to calm down!_

Incapacitated, lay subject to my own emotions as my lower body quickly envelopes with smoke. I struggle against my flailing mind, but it was no use. I'm stuck...

 _Happy thoughts...come on. You can get past this..._

I close my eyes and think back on my birthday.

 _Yeah...that cake was good. Really good..._

Then, I reminisce about my time with my high school football team.

 _Haha...that kid really knew how to throw dimes._

Finally, I think about the calm night I spent with Lyn.

 _She was so...peaceful. What I'd do to be able to taste that again..._

My heart relaxes while my breathing follows suit. I pushed away the memory of the explosion that took my adoptive sister and focus on the task at hand.

With my still shaking palms, I carefully extract Laniakea from her savior's cold body. She squirmed slightly as I did so, but she didn't resist much. I place her on some even ground nearby and slowly flipped her on her back to treat her wound.

 _Oh my..._

The wound was _deep_. It was too precise to be from falling rubble...and it's possible that this resulted from a selfish Taliver frantically hacking his way to escape the burning tent. Not that it mattered...Azazel likely secured his death, anyway.

With no bandages, I take my dagger and cut off a large piece of cloth from my waist. I place it over the little girl's wound and it quickly soaked up with her murky blood.

It wasn't enough.

I cut off more cloth from my hood, but that didn't provide enough stoppage power either. The blood just kept flowing non-stop, and I desperately scour my mind for methods of how to stop it.

 _Healing magic? No...I don't have access to a cleric. Alcohol will just make her bleed faster. I don't see any vulneraries around either..._

As my thinking progressed, I pleaded for anything, _anything_ that could possibly save this little girl's life. But deep down, I knew that I was no doctor. Hell, the wound is so severe that it's probable that not even the marvel of modern medicine could save her.

Tears fall down from my eyes. In a vain attempt to stop her hemorrhage, I whisper the same chant that I had heard Serra use during the countless times she'd treated my wounds.

"By the grace of Saint Elimine, oh Creator! Bless my subject...and rid her of her pain!"

"..."

 _Damnit..._

As expected, nothing happened. I didn't wield the necessary healing staff, nor was I trained in using the vital light magic. I'm foolish to think I could, but my last-ditch effort was the only thing I could muster. A plea to some manufactured god...from a sinful soul.

Truth was, as was often the case...I'm helpless. Useless. Laniakea's fate is out of my hands...she's going to die.

Frustrated, I punch the ground vigorously. My fist hits the ground so violently that it bleeds.

"DAMN IT!"

Why did the world have to be this way? Why must every single person I even reflect a shred of care towards end up six feet underground? It's just not fair! I'm...

I'm just not strong enough. I'm too weak. That's why I'm relegated to the role of a tactician. There is no other real way for me to contribute in a fight without drawing on this demon's power. A power that I had grown needing. It was addiction in all but name.

 _!_

"It appears you require strength. I can help you with that...for a price."

That voice did not come from Azazel or even Sothis. It was new and foreign, while also expressing a noble tone.

I look around for the source of the voice, but all I could see was the black abyss of billowing smoke. For a moment, I started to question my own sanity...something that had begun to falter as days went by. Was my mind playing tricks on me? Or was it the smoke robbing my body of precious oxygen?

Regardless, the voice calls out to me again.

"My presence is not the result of your insanity tactician. I've come to bargain with you."

Bullshit. True omnipotent gods don't exist in this world. They only serve to grant "divinely held" rights to noble big wigs for the legitimization of their otherwise contentious reigns. Even if they did exist, there's no way they'd want to deal with someone who already sold their soul to the devil.

"Yet here I am Samuel."

Angry, I stand up and screamed at the air madly. My balled up fist is as red as I could muster, with my lungs choking as it breathed in black smoke.

"Who the hell are you?!"

The voice replies calmly, "That's not within your right to know. Answer me this. How much are you willing to give up for this little girl that you just met?"

I...pondered on his question. I _had_ just met this girl a few moments ago. Even so, the resemblance she had to Lumina is so uncanny. She had the same long white hair that her sister sported. Her facial features were a tad different, but the resemblance in the two sibling's noses was like looking at a mirror copy. She's so small and vulnerable...befitting the role of a helpless little girl.

Even if she wasn't Lumina's sister...how much was I willing to give for her? She had likely spent most of her life in chains, and the bruises around her arms suggested she was regularly abused. She's likely not ready to take on the world on her own, a problem only exacerbated by the likely irreversible mental damage caused by her abusers. In addition, her manakete genetics meant that she would go through extra-long adolescence, and I'm certain that by the time she reached the age she could take care of herself...I'd already be long dead.

However, I sympathized with Laniakea's plight. I see some similarities with her...not just with Lumina but with myself too. This little girl is an outcast in this world...somebody who will be ostracized for the rest of their life. At least in my case, this was my doing, but this...

This was not her fault. It was my own...and thus it is my responsibility to make it right.

I said, "Anything and everything. If I could give her my arm and my leg if I could."

"I see...that won't be necessary. Your right hand will do just fine."

My eyes widen, and my heart skips a beat.

"My right hand?"

That's my dominant hand. It's the hand I used to write, my lead lance hand, and my favorite medium to conjure magic. I couldn't imagine life without it...otherwise, living life would become considerably harder.

The voice said, "Yes. That should contain just enough quintessence to stitch up her wound and stop the bleeding. Any other body part just wouldn't do. I'd explain to you why, but I'm afraid we just don't have the time."

Was this voice just a hallucination? Or was it some higher power taking pity on my poor soul? I'm not sure, but at this point, I didn't have many options. Azazel had used up all possible mana reserves during his rampage through the camp...

 _..._

If I have to cannibalize my own hand to save this girl's life, then so be it. I'll become a leftie if I need to.

I said, "What do I need to do?"

The voice paused for a moment, then chuckled. Actually, now that I think about it the voice sounds a bit familiar. But, I couldn't quite identify its source.

The voice said, "I find it surprising that you didn't even protest! I suppose I shouldn't be...we know you to always be willing to put your body on the line. Very well, the information you need is already within you."

"Within me? Don't speak in riddles. This girl is bleeding out as we speak!"

Laniakea's wound is beginning to create a small puddle of crimson around us. My hands were stained red from my repeated attempts the stop it.

The voice said, "Azazel knows both how to receive, and break down quintessence. You just dig down into your memories. Just as how he can access your experiences...you can access his."

"What the h-"

 _!_

I stop stop mid-sentence. Suddenly, I feel something awaken within me. My mind turns the corner, and I instantly discovered what I needed. The knowledge was definite and fleeting, but if I applied it now...

I said, "H-How is this possible?"

If the voice had a face, it surely would've been smiling now.

"Anything is possible if you apply yourself. Go on now. You no longer need my assistance."

Cold wind blows through the air, pushing away much of the smoke nearby. It made it much easier to breathe and surely eased the suffering Laniakea was going through.

I marveled at it, but I knew I didn't have much time. I needed to heal Laniakea before this knowledge disappeared.

I look at my right hand that was already busy stemming the blood flow from her wound. It had cuts all around the skin, along with heavy callouses associated with my experience in lances. It had done me much good, but it was time to say goodbye.

I wince as I started the forbidden enchantment. This will hurt.

A lot.

It starts as small needles puncturing my nerve endings. No big deal, I had sustained much worse. But then, what started off as small incisions became a full inferno initiated by a butcher's knife. My hand shakes uncontrollably as I began to lose control of it, and its healthy brown glow turned pale and clammy. The pain increases exponentially by the second, and I sooner nearly pass out in shock.

A white glow surrounds Laniakea's wound. As my pain became worse, her state became better. It felt like I was taking on her burdens in her stead, and I mustered the strength to continue on...

 _!_

It hurt so much. This was likely the most pain I'd experienced _ever._ It was about double the pain of passing kidney stones, and my fortitude quickly dissipated.

I screamed. I swore. I cried.

I can _feel_ my hand decomposing into quintessence and convert into useful mana _._ My only solace was that it also destroyed my nerves, and after three minutes of hell, my limb goes numb.

Relieved, I fell flat on my back. I didn't dare look at the ghostly white mess that was formerly my dominant hand. All that mattered was that Laniakea is all right...

Everything turns into a haze. It appears...that I'd at last hit my limit. Would it do me wrong...to take a little nap? I'm...so...tired.

The surrounding smoke surrounds our two bodies like vultures eyeing a dead carcass. My irritated lungs cough up blood, and I knew we were at the cusp of death's grasp.

 _No..._

 _I can't pass out here. Not now. Not yet._

I force my body up and use my left hand to lift Laniakea's still bloody body onto my back. My joints and ankle roar with pain...but I didn't care. Compared to what I had experienced only a moment ago, this was nothing.

I grapple with the little girl's weight. I fall once, but then quickly got back up. A few moments later, I fell again, this time outside what used to be the camp's mess hall. It was burnt and beyond recognition, though my stomach churned for what smelled like cooked meat.

Except as I observed from the outside, I realized it wasn't animal meat that was cooking. It's something much worse.

 _I think I'm going to barf..._

I make my way to the camp's exit. There's a lone watchtower guarding the wooden gate, although much of it had already burnt to a crisp. What remained of its guard is nothing more than a black skeleton slumped against some boulders.

"..."

I leave the camp in silence. Partly in mourning for the innocent victims, but also to ignore the few pleading cries of what remained of the survivors. They all had irrecoverable injuries...all the result of that demon.

I couldn't help them. I could barely help myself. Their ghosts will haunt me until the day I die...waiting to set me down in my own personal seat in deepest, hottest depths of hell.

* * *

 **Later...**

Darian yawns as he looks out from his tall watchtower. They stationed him at the eastern guard defending the palisade overlooking Porrety village, and it was a sleepy little assignment, although that wasn't the case a few months ago. This place was the location of a vicious battle between the Taliver and the local villagers; a response to the villagers _finally_ feeling confident enough to cease those hated "protection" payments to those fiends. Thanks in part to protection of the palisade...along with the help of some mercenaries paid for by efficient taxation, the villagers at last freed themselves from the Taliver. He still remembers how the night after was filled with booze and merriment...and the mayor promptly declared that day thereafter a town holiday. "Liberation Day" he called it...it's funny, there's a certain ring to it that flattered Darian's ears.

The Taliver had lost so many men they didn't dare bother Porrety again. Thus, this gate had become nothing more than a formality to the villagers. They didn't enforce customs or any sort of immigration policy, and merchants along with other travelers passed through here unmolested. His job has almost become meaningless; the warning bells they charged him with in the event of trouble haven't been tampered with since Liberation Day. But still, he understood the importance of his job as the first line of defense. Despite that, it didn't detract from the boredom.

Chilly winter wind travels down Darian's spine. It was frigid, which is unsurprising considering the climate of the mountains. It tended to be cooler up here than the rest of Sacae, with mild summers and freezing winters. The yearly snowfall hasn't got around to pulverizing Porrety yet, though the threat of worsening road conditions should scare away most travelers. Nobody had crossed this gate all month.

Just as he finished that previous thought, Darian squints his eyes. He spotted something over the horizon. No...he double-checks himself.

Someone. Two people in fact. One of them is a purple clothed figure with long black hair going down to his shoulders. The other was much smaller, a little girl with snowy white hair being carried upon the former's back. Both were covered in an egregious amount of crimson, a sight he hadn't seen since that bloody day.

The bigger figure paused, as if unable to take another step. He looks up upon the watchtower where Darian stood, his white mask pointed directly at him. He could feel two orbs watching...no...pleading with him for help. Then, without a word, he collapsed onto the ground with his passenger's white hair covering him like a pale flower.

Darian immediately reaches for the large brass bell that occupied a large space central to his post. When hitting it at max strength, it can notify anyone of an emergency within a mile radius. It will only need half of that to notify the town hall.

He hit it precisely five times. He remembers the code the mayor taught a few months ago.

 _Hit it twice for a bandit raid. Hit it thrice for an army. Four times for an unannounced VIP guest. Finally..._

 _Five times for the dying._

* * *

Ivalio walks down the recently refurbished town square and smiles. He truly appreciated the new look of town, eyeing the formerly cracked bricks lining the town's central roundabout. That wasn't the only change made around here; the benches have been fixed and repainted as with surrounding buildings. Young children and their parents were smiling under the gray sky, their bodies bundled with warm jackets as they happily enjoyed their improved surroundings.

Mayor Ivalio looked up his village with pride. It's clear the dark days of the past was well behind them...and they were weathering through their first winter as free citizens. A time usually filled with famine was instead one of free time and greater bonding with family. The lack of work during the winter allowed for this, so it was a time to loosen up and make some memories.

"Mister Mayor! How are you today?"

Ivalio turns to address one of the locals, a new arrival from nearby Araphen. With cheap property prices along with the protection provided by the palisade, some commoners have immigrated to Porrety in hopes of a better life. Once they were here, most turned to terrace farming (much like what they do in Peru) while others supported themselves by catering to the many travelers that came through here in the warmer months. Porrety was poised for growth and looked ripe to propel itself into a bright future.

He greets the local, a man named Xavier.

"I'm doing well Xavier. How's the family?"

Xavier replied, "They're doing great! My daughter just turned two yesterday! Perhaps you could join us for some lunch later today?"

Ivalio shakes his head, "I'm sorry, it's a tempting offer but I must decline. I'm seeing someone at the doctor's office today."

Xavier briefly frowns but understands. The town's mayor is a busy person, a state only exacerbated by his adopted son. He couldn't complain though, he knew it was to the benefit of the town and himself that Ivalio is the person to bear this burden. He was simply the right person for the job.

He said, "Well...that's a shame. I hope your visit goes well friend. Perhaps another day then."

Xavier extends his hand towards Ivalio, who accepted it.

Ivalio said, "Yes...I can guarantee that. I can't wait to sample some of your wife's fabulous chicken soup."

Ivalio bid his farewell and continued on his way to the doctor's office. Although he enjoyed speaking to locals like Xavier, secretly he hoped he wouldn't be stopped again. He was already running late in his daily itinerary, and more conversations with friends would only worsen that issue...

 **...**

Ivalio turns the corner past an abandoned dwelling. This was one of the few structures not yet touched with the revitalized blessing sweeping the village. At one point, this house belonged to the parents of the boy he'd adopted. Now, it stands as a testament to their not-so-distant past. There were talks to the demolish the house and replace it with a monument dedicated to all the victims of the Taliver...but such discussions never left the draft stages. Perhaps it was better left as is.

Still, such thoughts were best left for a later time. Now is the time to do his duty.

He went next door to the entrance of Dr. Mills establishment. It was a quaint little thing, with sturdy pine wood floors, a comfy warm fire, and a soft sofa to receive patients/visitors. This place doubled as Dr. Mills' home and his business, though that much was obvious. Small town doctors such as himself couldn't afford to maintain two locations at once, or even to pay an assisting nurse. At least not yet.

The physician from the University of Bern was midway through washing some dishes when he noticed Ivalio sitting on his sofa. He calmly stops and makes his way over to him.

The two men exchanged handshakes and greetings. They had firm grips and looked at each other square in the eyes.

The duo held great respect to one another, as it was Ivalio who legitimized Dr. Mills' practice while Dr. Mills returned the favor by regulating the health of his citizens. Dr. Mills had graduated at the bottom of his class at UB, and thus struggled to gain employment anywhere. Ivalio came across him as the recent gradoate was making his way to Lycia thriugh the Taliver pass, and the mayor persuaded him to stay in Porrety as the town's only doctor. Once Ivalio helped him set up his practice, Dr. Mills proved especially valuable during Liberation Day. Had the doctor not been there, many people surely would have died...further cementing his confidence in the unproven man. After all, as the old saying goes, a doctor who barely passed his classes is still a doctor.

Dr. Mills said, "How can I help you today Ivalio?"

Ivalio looks towards a closed-door by the doctor's own bedroom. It's painted white, with a Red Cross sign hanging by a needle.

He said, "I've come to visit the man and child who fell outside of our gate yesterday. I'd like them to answer some questions."

Dr. Mills hesitated, "Er..sir the man specifically requested that they don't receive visitors. The older fellow has particularly terrible wounds...I think it-"

Dr. Mills stopped speaking. Looking into the gaze of his superior, he realizes that the mayor would not take no for an answer. The look he had in his eyes sent a chill down his spine.

Ivalio said, "A mysterious pair of strangers arrive at our fair village covered in blood. On top of that, I've received reports of a great fire that has consumed the Taliver camp. We're the closest settlement to the Taliver and yet no one has come to us for our help but them. Naturally, I'm going to hold some suspicions."

Dr. Mills gulped. This was a side of Ivalio he had kept secret from most of the village. The part of him that was powerful and had pushed for so many great things in Porrety. Ivalio, the gentle mayor, is secretly an imposing strongman. Someone who was all too willing to twist a few arms to get what he wanted.

He squeaked, "R-Right this way, sir. That door will take you to them."

Ivalio nods silently, and the green-haired professional placed his hand on the doorknob of the patient's quarters. Just as he was about to open it, he pauses.

Dr. Mills whispered, "If you must see these two then go ahead. All that I ask is that you respect the gentleman's request of keeping his mask on. To my knowledge, it's a cultural death sentence if he were to reveal his face."

Ivalio raised his brow. This detail intrigued him.

He asked, "What culture would believe in something so ridiculous?"

Dr. Mills shrugged his shoulders.

"He claims to hail from a tribe west of Carazan. Somewhere in the jungles of Missur."

Ivalio sighed, "Fine, I won't push that detail. Just step aside and let me do my job..."

* * *

I was in a familiar place. A place safe from all the dangers of the Taliver, suffering, and war itself. A place where people could live in peace, fall in love, and start a family. The fair village of Porrety is all of these things, and I couldn't help but smile as I thought of my part in their success.

But I'm not comfortable. Far from it. Sitting up from my bed, I look towards the gray sky out in the horizon. Gray mountains overlooked the tiny village, with mountain goats cautiously scaling the dangerous rock. One misstep and it was instant death by the hand of gravity. As I observe a family of them bleat out loud, I fill my mind with uncertainty.

I had successfully escaped the inferno at Taliver Camp with Laniakea in tow. After doing so, I forced my body on a death march towards the closest village, Porrety. I understood that going here for help may expose my identity, so I made up a lie to keep this white mask on my face. My continued presence here poses a risk, but I am still stuck with one burning question.

What now?

Where could I go? No, where could _we_ go? Caelin is no longer an option...given the fact I nearly killed their crown princess. I doubt Matthew's employer sees me as anything more than a nuisance. Carazan is a war zone unfit to raise a child, and Swampmarsh has too many connections with that after-mentioned thief.

I'm a wanted man. Marquess Hausen and the Black Fang likely have assassins out for me and I wouldn't doubt if Matthew's employer does too.

I wince as I feel a twitch of pain in my abdomen. In one fell swoop, Azazel had turned all of my friends into enemies.

 _I'm a fugitive now..._

There are two options. Either clear my name or change it. The former option was impossible, given the situation. So the realistic route would be to change my identity _once_ _again._

I dreaded this decision, but it was the only way. If I could go to a secluded location in a nation that wasn't out to get me, then I could theoretically live a peaceful life with Laniakea devoid of all the war and suffering that haunted my dreams. I'd have to leave everything behind, but admittingly I didn't have much.

But what location would be suitable? Lycia is a no-go zone. Etruria and Bern are likely already aware of what happened in Caelin, so they're out. You can't live in Sacae unless you identify with a tribe, of which I don't. Any of the western islands would require me to go through either Etruria, Bern, or Lycia. That only leaves me one choice.

Illia. The land of snow and ice. A place with a small enough population as to not facilitate too much information transfer and geography so prohibiting that a federal-level government does not exist within its borders. A people so preoccupied fighting other nation's wars that they themselves do not squabble over their own territory.

It was a perfect place...if not for a few details. As foreigners, Laniakea and I would not be subject to the mandatory draft pressed on all the military age men and women there. However, this also means that I would have no way to support us financially. Although I had some funds under an assumed name in Araphen, it would only last us a decade at most. Considering that Laniakea could live for hundreds or even thousands of years, this amount was utterly unacceptable. I'd need to concoct some manner of which I could support us for a long time and eventually pass on this trade/business to her so she wouldn't have to fight as I did.

 _Agh!_

Another stinging pain rocks my head. A migraine. They'd been coming at me with more ferocity and more frequently with every new head injury I sustained. It gave me plenty of discomfort, but I hadn't been able to get my hands on one of those tonics like Serra gave me all that time ago.

As much as I'd like to address the pain I was regularly living with, I knew I couldn't. Given the state of medicine in Elibe, I doubt nobody besides a top rate doctor could fix me. Doing so would cost money, along with plenty of time. Although I had the cash, the latter was scarce. Right now all that mattered was that I get us out of Sacae as soon as possible.

We'll leave the moment Laniakea wakes up. Until then, my health will have to take a backseat.

I shift my gaze over towards the white-haired manakete. She was small, looking about 6 in human years. Assuming she aged at about the same rate as her sister, that'd make her about 300 years old. That's about 15 times my own age, yet I'm the only one capable of supporting us both.

I sighed. I knew this would probably be the biggest burden I'd ever take on in my life. Regardless, I push away any thoughts of self-doubt. I had already lost my right hand over this girl, there was no way I'm backing out now.

"Hm?"

My eyes widen as Laniakea lifts herself from her slumber. Her eyes were droopy, and a tiny amount of drool adorably falls down her cheek. Her face is slightly red with good health, and she drowsily stretches her arms into the air. Although I was nearby, it's clear she didn't detect my presence.

I said, "L-Laniakea?"

Her ears twitch with stimulation. She looks towards my direction and squints her red eyes. Eyes identical to Lumina. She tilts her head, allowing some of her long curly hair to sway slightly.

She said, "Mister...your voice sounds familiar..."

An eery silence surrounded us. I sat there still as Laniakea loses herself in her thoughts.

 _!_

Suddenly, her face morphs into one of horror.

She said, "Y-You! Scary mask man!"

She immediately leaps from her bed and onto the wooden floor. She backs away from me towards a dark corner at the opposite end of the room.

I attempt to calm her down.

I said, "Lani, I can explain. I need you to relax..."

It doesn't work, and her back is now flat against the wall. She's stuttering uncontrollably, and a bead of her sweat spills onto the floor.

 _By Elimine...she's scared of me._

She quivered, "W-Where am I? Where's M-Maria?"

I frown and look towards the floor in shame. Noticing my somber face, the little girl begins to put things together.

I said, "Laniakea...I'm so sorry. I..."

She covers her mouth in horror. Memories of what happened a few hours ago begin to take control of her mind.

She said, "M-Maria...she's...oh..."

Her eyes roll back and she falls forward. Acting quickly I grab her with my left hand before she could hit the ground.

"By Elimine! Are you okay?!"

She says nothing. Turning her to her side; I realize that she'd fainted. Out cold from shock.

She had lost her parents, her sister, and now the only other parental figure she ever had in Maria. Gone to the hellfire brought upon her by an evil demon.

And it was all my fault.

I hear a familiar voice come from within. It made me bristle with fury.

 _ **A:** Muwahahaha! Had you given me control for another minute, I would have killed the little girl with her guardian! It was a shame that I took a moment to savor their suffering..._

* * *

 **Earlier...**

"Stay with me Lani! I'll keep you safe!"

Maria bears the little girl close to her body. The tent they had taken shelter in was filling with smoke, and the duo knew that escape was impossible. Whoever was responsible for this had just killed everyone else in the room, who had tried to escape through the structure's front entrance. It's suicide to follow them.

Maria feels frustrated. Looking through the opaque tent cloth, all she could examine was the silhouette of a man surrounded by green flame. If she could see the assailant with her own two eyes, then she could try to charge at him while Laniakea made her escape. But she can't, and if something didn't change promptly, it would slaughter them in this newfound prison.

She didn't care what happened to her. Without a family or anybody to call her own, she recognized her future was a dark one. But Lani is a different story. She has a sister out there somewhere, and if she could get these two back together, there's a chance Laniakea could live a normal life. She wanted to protect her to make this possibility a reality, but that seemed less viable by the minute.

Laniakea tucks herself deeper by Maria's side. Her fear is paralyzing, and her dot around her surrounding with confusion. Maria understood that the little girl has a vision problem, an issue that could easily be resolved with some glasses. However, unknown to her, Laniakea more than made up for this deficiency with a special ability. The little girl is one of the few people on the planet capable of mana reading, an ability where a user can see a living being's mana and derive some valuable information from it. This includes reading a person's personality, power level, and nature.

Looking through the opaque tent material, Laniakea got a crystal clear view of their attacker. She spots a green light, which is calm and harmless. It reminds her of gentle candlelight, but as she continued looking at it, the dim flame exploded into a ferocious vile inferno. The evil in its embers shakes Laniakea to her very core.

"Laniakea! Get down!"

Suddenly, the tent ceiling caves in. A plethora of rocks and other debris falls through, pelting the two people inside. Maria dives towards the floor with Laniakea under her arm...

The last thing she remembered was Maria screaming in pain as a metal pole impaled her body. The sight was unforgettable, and will probably haunt her dreams for years to come...

* * *

Wet, tearful droplets litter Laniakea's clear face. I look at the young girl with an immense sense of shame and guilt. I do my best to crowd out the demon screaming insults and other obscenities from my mind, but it's difficult.

 _ **A:** This is all your fault. You're the reason this girl has lost every single person she's ever cared about. Lumina is dead because of you. You let me kill Maria. I would have killed Lyn if it wasn't for those two knights. I probably killed Taliyah, and if I didn't this brush with death will likely change her forever. The people of this world are right to ostracize us. I'm a dangerous sociopath, and you're too weak to stop me. Face it, eventually, the day will come where I'll finish the job with Laniakea, and then I'll put away that green-haired nomad too._

Couple this with the intense pain I was feeling, and even just existing felt unbearable.

 _ **A:** Just let me take control again. Relief is only a short decision away!_

I slam my fist against the ground.

 **S:** No! I will not let you torment this world again! I will bear this burden for as long as it takes for me to dispose of you!

The demon laughs.

 _ **A:** Hahaha! Do you really think you can get rid of me?_

Could I? Am I going to live with this monster forever? Could I live with that? What if...what if I go insane?

[knock] [knock]

 _Huh?_

[knock] [knock]

A voice permeates through the white pine door.

"Er...mister someone has come to see you. He wants you to answer some questions."

I look towards Laniakea, who is still snoozing on my left arm...and frown.

 _This is going to look bad._

 _ **...**_

Laniakea was peacefully sleeping on her own separate cot beside mine. Despite her slightly red face, it was like she had been sleeping here this entire time.

"Come in! I'm ready now!"

The door opens, and I spot two figures. One of them was one I recognized, belonging to Dr. Mills. The other was a bit different. He's a taller fellow, with a grown beard and large frame. He had the body of a laborer, but the way he carried himself suggested he held some political power.

My forehead wrinkles. Actually, he looks a bit familiar.

 _Oh...that's right..._

He's the man I gave the village palisade blueprints to all that time ago. I didn't recognize him because I only remembered him as the local bar drunk. To my surprise, this man had a lot more than meets the eye.

The two settles themselves in, and Dr. Mills introduces us.

He said, "Hello Samuel. This is our mayor, Ivalio. He has some questions for you if you have a moment."

Ivalio extends his hand towards me, and I took it. He had a tough grip, with the strength of a hard-working common man.

He said, "Hello, nice to meet you."

I nodded, "Likewise..."

Although I just met this man, I feel like he had already earned my respect. As a commoner, his basis for power was found entirely in his merit and gratitude from the people. His muscles, scars, and droopy eyes represented how much effort he personally put into the betterment of his peers, a people who reciprocated by making him their leader. This came in stark contrast to most of the nobles I've come across so far, most of which only ruled because of a supposed "divine right" or manufactured legend.

We were commoners talking on equal ground, at least on a class standpoint. I'm undoubtedly in the lesser position here.

The middle-aged man is scruffy looking and had an intimidating gaze. He carelessly chews on tobacco as he questioned me in a grizzled, blue-collar manner.

He said, "So...I think I'll cut to the chase here. Who are you? Who is she? Why are you here in this small town during the dawn of winter?"

I replied, "I'm a slave from the Taliver, and this is my companion who was also in chains. We're the only survivors of a calamity that struck Taliver camp."

He rolls back on his seat, and his expression indicates I intrigued him.

He asked, "Calamity? Could you mind telling me a bit about that?"

I hesitated. The trick was to give them enough information to validate what they already know, but also to withhold anything that could incriminate me of any guilt. If they suspected that I had the power to wipe out an entire town, it would have detrimental effects on my standing here. Best-case scenario, I'd spend a night in jail.

I put on my best poker face and spewed out half-truths like I'm taking a polygraph test.

I said, "There was a powerful mage who attacked the Taliver. His flames burnt everything and everyone to a crisp. He did not discriminate, and he slaughtered both slavers and slaves. It was terrible to witness firsthand...truly terrible."

Technically, what I said was true. The experience _was_ very painful and traumatized my damaged mind. But without context, I put myself in the victim's position, not the one instigating it.

Ivalio did something odd. He smiled.

He said, "Well, he beat us to it then. We've been planning to poison their water supply next week...and afterward, we would've attacked their weakened forces. Ah...oh well. On the bright side, our special operatives have already evacuated all of our citizens from the camp. No Porretians were killed."

Ivalio didn't spare a thought for the dozens of innocent lives lost. He didn't have to. It didn't affect his power base, so he could afford to turn a blind eye. But even so, he was reflecting tendencies common with the power brokers of my old world. On the surface, they'd keep the appearance of a warm, compassionate human being. But deep down, they'd be willing to turn a blind eye to accomplish their political goals.

But was I any better?

Ivalio stands up.

He said, "I'll be on my way then. My son is waiting for me back home. I've just wanted to see if you were a threat to our fair village. You're just a person who's fallen upon tough times."

 _He's not even going to ask if we're all right..._

 _Spoken like a true politician._

He left without saying another word. Before long, it was only Dr. Mills, Laniakea, and I.

Dr. Mills' face wrinkles, and he looks toward Laniakea's bed behind me.

He asked, "Pardon me sir...had the little girl taken a step out during our conversation?"

Puzzled, I replied, "Excuse me?"

I turn around and see that Laniakea's bed was empty. My gut sinks to the center of the earth.

I erupt from my sitting position and make for the door. We searched the house; we asked the neighbors, and we even questioned the constable for her whereabouts. But it was all in vain.

She was nowhere to be found. Like dust in the wind, she'd disappeared.

I collapse with a face full of tears outside the village gates. A cold breeze blows onto my back, chilling me to the bone.

I look out to the wilderness past the safety of civilization. Light flurries of snow began to pollute the rocky floor...and I curse myself for so careless. My hands brush against a small trail of footsteps...

She'd fled with her head full of fear. I'd instigated her weakness by allowing my own to influence my own actions. This...was all my fault. Now I need to find her...

Before the waiting arms of the brutal winter do...

* * *

 **Edited: 1/20/2020**


	37. Numbing Winter

**Chapter 33: Numbing Winter**

 **By SodiumChloride12, derived from Fire Emblem, owned by Nintendo.**

 **A/N: I've made a big decision regarding this series, and another one I'm starting up. I've been jockeying between the posting times for my two fics. I've considered leaving this fic at its weekly schedule while putting my other fic at a biweekly one. However, then I ran into the problem of averaging about 1500 words a day. Although this might not seem like a lot, due to my scheduling this is simply not possible. Nowadays, I do most of my writing on the bus to and from university, and I can barely edge out 1000 words daily. So, I've come up with a compromise.**

 **I'll be posting weekly for my fics on an arc basis. Each arc will be 3-4 chapters long, meaning I'll be posting per week, on a (more or less) monthly basis. So, my last chapter for this fic will be on September 6th, after which it'll go on a temporary month-long hiatus. After the first arc on my new fic ends, I'll come back and write another 3-4 chapters for this story. I've tried writing on an arc basis before, so it's not a new concept.**

 **So to sum up, after September 6th, I won't post again until October 4th. I'll write for TSOMB for a month, then I'll return to my new fic. I'll be doing this on a rotating basis, and until I finish this series. After that, I'll finish my new fic until I'll allow myself to take on any new projects.**

 **Thank you for sticking with me. I'll be happy to write for y'all for the future to come.**

 **N: Just a heads up, this will likely be the darkest chapter I'll ever write. If this does come to any surprise to you, then I hope I can shine some light on this. This is the result of several months of war, gruesome injuries, and broken relationships. Many soldiers come home to find a support structure unwilling or unable to tend to their serious ailments. Samuel, in a way, is like these men. The constant death and destruction have devastated this young man physically, and mentally. Once he thought he's lost everything, he will do something unthinkable.**

* * *

 _Is there a place in heaven for people like me? For those who have nothing to live for...and everything to be damned for? My soul is drowning in sin...irrevocably so._

 _There is only one choice to make. I came into this world a monster. I can't allow this demon inside of me to awaken again. I can't go another day with this constant pain. I can't walk this road alone._

 _I just...can't..._

* * *

 **Many years ago...**

Lumina looks on with baggy eyes. Her clothes are in tatters, her white hair is stained brown with mud. The skin around her arms are bruised, and her hands heavily calloused. She wears a thick, brown bandana that matches the rags below her neck, all of which was black with coal dust.

Lumina would do anything in the world for a warm shower. Doing so would replenish some of the beauty she sported back when she was free, but she knew that was impossible. All of the warm water she had secured for herself was used to wash Laniakea, so she'd have to wait for another day.

Laniakea was a young, plump toddler. The hair she shared with her still reflected the snowy texture that was prominent in her family, although it was noticeably tarnished with sediment. Her red eyes were locked lovingly with Lumina's, and they reflected an innocence often associated with the very young. She looked to be around 3 years of age, in human terms.

The pair were in a tent located at an eastern portion of the Hannonite Mountain range. They were slaves under the control of the Karzai Cartel, a criminal organization known for extracting valuable ores from the hard, barely mineable rock. The cartel was only in existence for about 50 years, but regardless the owners had made a fortune exploiting the free labor provided by their unwilling workforce.

The work was brutal and dangerous. Tunneling went deep into the mountain range, and regular tectonic movements deep in the earth meant that the relatively weak wooden supports were vulnerable to collapse. In addition, the workers were put under a high risk of respiratory problems like black lung, and it made living very difficult.

Lumina coughs and a wad of thick, black crimson splatters on the earthen floor. She does her best to try to play it off as routine, but Lumina worryingly looks straight at.

She asked, "Swomtwing wong?"

Her eyes go wet with tears, and Lumina reassuringly wipes them away.

She replied, "No it's okay. I just had something in my throat."

That was a lie. Her lungs were infested with plenty of coal dust, along with plenty of heavy metals. Given the amount of danger she was going through on a daily basis, her long life could end with the next couple of years.

Then Laniakea would be left to fend for herself. As a young slave girl, she'd likely have to suffer through the same travesty that was inflicted on her six years ago.

She could never let that happen. Something had to change.

Suddenly, the tent flap comes open and a large man with an equally large hammer interrupts them. He has a thick bushel of brown, curly hair and his eyes were green and uncaring. He had a large scar across the side of his head, which prohibited any hair growth. The scarring continued all across his arms and neck and was a grizzly sight.

Lumina recognized him immediately, and hatred immediately seethed through her body. A hatred beyond deserving of a common slaver.

The man looks at Lumina, and then at Laniakea. He barely acknowledges them both while speaking in a scruffy tone.

He said, "You've been sold to a buyer in Ryerde. Get your things together and report to the front gate immediately."

He turns after and exits the tent. Despite the short notice, he understood that Lumina was in no position to protest. She had too much to lose if she did.

Laniakea tugs on Lumina's shirt. The older manakete lifts the toddler up from the ground and rests her head on her shoulder.

Laniakea said, "Are w-we woving again?"

Lumina sighed.

"Yes. We are."

The little girl's grasp tightens on her guardian's shoulder.

"I'm scared."

Lumina kisses her forehead, Laniakea's nerves calm. She would do anything to protect her.

"I'll be with you forever. I'll protect you, and one day we'll find a place alone from all these bad people. We'll live in peace..."

Laniakea tilts her head. Living in peace was a foreign concept to her. She had only known life as an enslaved.

Regardless, she soaked up her words like a sponge. She'll remember this for years to come.

Lumina smiles. It warms Laniakea's heart and evaporated any anxiety pent up in her body.

Lumina said, "I know exactly how to cheer you up."

She throws the little girl up into the air, much to the enjoyment of the white-haired child. She giggles like any normal toddler would; her voice increasing with each consecutive throw and catch. She gains so much height that her little head lightly taps the ceiling of the canvas tent.

It was little moments like these that made living this life bearable.

Despite the gleeful situation, Lumina couldn't help but feel a sense of uncertainty. She had spent these last six years toiling under the Karzai Cartel, and although the work was horrible, they went by a moral code that benefited her and Laniakea greatly. They gave every family their own tent, and never worked anybody below the age of six. Selling families separately to buyers was strictly prohibited, and were sold as units. More importantly to Lumina, anyone preying on slave women was punished severely and were subject from anything between 20 lashes to death.

The three men that attacked her that night turned out to be vengeful rogues. Two of them were hung while the third suffered at the end of a cat o' nine tails. He continues to work with the Karzai but still bears the scars from that day. Today was the last time they'd spoken to each other since that then.

She feared what would happen to them at their new location. Would she continue to enjoy the privileges she was granted here? Or would she be separated from Laniakea? Lumina didn't know, but she knew she'd have to enjoy these next few days with her to the fullest.

The fate of her place in the life of Laniakea was now out of her hands. The best she could do was make sure little Lani had pleasant memories for the hard times to come.

* * *

 **In the Jungles of Missur...**

Lumina and Mark sat under the sight of the bright moon. Above them there were a plethora of different stars, all painted on a black canvas. It was hot and humid, but the muggy weather wasn't going to stop the great promise about to be made.

Lumina asked, "Mark, can I ask a favor from you?"

Mark replied, "Sure...anything."

Lumina's straight white hair was stained red from the earlier battle with the wilderness. Mark's purple outfit was filled with sweat from the death march. Both were very tired, although it was clear that in Mark's case, it was more out of exhaustion than sleepiness.

Lumina clears her throat. It was still sore and raspy from the months she'd spent in the mines.

"Mark...I have a confession to make. The reason I fear death isn't because I fear the afterlife. Rather...I'm scared that I'll leave someone behind."

Mark replied, "I presume that person is your sister?"

Lumina hesitates for a split second. Mark doesn't notice.

She nodded, "Yes, I fear that once I'm gone that no one will be around to look for her. She's so young, she can't take care of herself...and every day that we're separated is another day she could see her end. I hope this is isn't too much to ask..."

Mark raises his hand to silence Lumina.

"No need to worry about that. Should the unlikely scenario of your death come to bear, you can rest assured that I will make it my life's mission to locate your sister. On top of that, I'll take care of her until she becomes of age."

Lumina's red eyes widen in shock.

"That's too much to accept! You simply only need to locate her and commit her to an orphanage away from the slavers. I can't possibly ask of anything more."

Mark disagreed.

"I'm not about to go through all the trouble of finding her just to abandon her like that. It's just not right. Besides, I consider you to be a close as family to me. It's only correct I extend that treatment to her as well. Even if it means I have to spend my whole life taking care of her."

Lumina coughed at that last sentence. Mark dismissed it as a consequence of her deteriorating lungs.

Tears began to blot Lumina's tan face. She was touched.

"M-Mark..."

Mark reaches over and reassuringly grabs her shoulder. Some of her straight, white hair was over it, and it felt rough like a shark's scales. Still, Mark didn't pay any mind to it.

Lumina calms herself and wipes the tears from her face.

"Her name...is Laniakea. I long for the day that we reunite. Ever since we were separated, it feels like a part of me is missing. Mark...I am truly thankful."

Mark smiles.

"You're my sister. I'd give my life for you if it were required. I know you'd do the same for me."

If only he knew then. Those words would go on to haunt Mark forever.

* * *

 **Present...**

The thick snow crunched with each individual step into the wilderness. It was cold and unforgiving against my uninsulated boots, but I continued on nonetheless. The sun hung low in the sky, and it resembled more like a dimming candle than a large burning ball of fire. I was treading through the open northern plains of Sacae; several days walk from the Taliver mountains. I had been spending my time searching for Laniakea, going off likely escape routes and word of mouth from locals. In addition, I've been using techniques Lyn had taught me in the burgeoning days of our adventure, which turned out pretty useful in making out prints in the snow.

Not many people were traveling through here in mid-November. Villagers stayed in their villages, travelers stay home, and nomads winter in their tents for the grass to return. Thus, all I had to do was follow the tiny feet making their way north.

Despite having a lifeline to Laniakea, it did nothing to stifle my anxiety. It was the fourth day since she disappeared, and given that she doesn't know how to hunt, I knew she'd be starving out here. No food, no water, and no winter clothing. The thought of it made my gut sink, a sensation only exacerbated by the theriac flowing through my blood.

Theriac is the only effective painkiller afforded to these medieval people. It was an opiate concoction invented in the Missurian jungle, a product of the native tribes there. Once the tribes came into contact with the Lycian settlers on the coast, the drug was picked up and sold across the continent. It became popular fast, and had it not been for the price, it would have likely become a household item.

Theriac is stupid effective. It wiped away all the pain plaguing my body, but I knew it came at a huge price. Theriac is derived from opium, which is incredibly addictive. The doctor who prescribed it to me knew that as well and recommended half a dose per day. But I didn't listen to him. I couldn't.

Despite using the recommended dose, on the second day of my journey, I found myself unable to move in the morning. The pain was so severe that it formed a paralyzing cocoon around my body. One so restricting that when I beckoned my arm to move, it felt like I was treading through molasses.

I didn't have a choice. I tore open the jar containing the theriac and took double the recommended dose. It gave me the strength I needed to continue, but it effectively made me immune to all stimuli. No pain, no bitter cold, no hunger.

Nothing. I feel nothing. I was walking numb.

It was midday, and I knew although I didn't feel it, I knew it was time to eat. I sit by a nearby river and take out a parcel containing a sandwich. It had whole grain bread, tender turkey, and a couple of veggies I was able to procure at a local village. Despite the effort I made in getting the ingredients, I knew it was pointless. My lunch was going to be tasteless.

 **...**

I gaze out into the white blanket ahead of me. It was flat, featureless plain. Nothing could be seen for miles, except for some lightly falling snow, and the small trail I had been following for days.

I tighten the collar of my buffalo-skin winter jacket as another strong gust of wind nearly tears my hood away from my head. I had bought the jacket from the nearby Foran tribe, along with an extra when I find Laniakea. All of my transactions thus far had been on credit, since I haven't had the opportunity to withdraw from a major city. I'd need to settle these debts at another time.

With binoculars attached to my neck, I look out against the horizon. The plain wasn't featureless after all. There was a cliff far away, spilling out beyond my view.

I frowned.

The trail, which at first contained clean prints, became less so. To my horror, the footsteps became more and more bloody with time. This was likely because Laniakea's boots had worn down, and now her bare feet were exposed to the elements. I needed to find her quickly.

Several minutes later, I stop. The trail was no longer just a single pair of prints in the snow. There was now a second, much larger pair. No...on closer inspection I realize it wasn't a pair of feet. It was four, large paws. Four paws following two feet toward the direction of the aftermentioned cliff.

I tighten my grasp on my dagger. The paw's pattern...the five-clawed toes. I could recognize that animal anywhere.

They belonged to a bear.

Looking towards Laniakea's path, I realized that her steps had gotten less deep and more erratic. I now know the reason why.

 _Oh no..._

I break out into a run. My lungs fill with moisture, and it became hard to breathe. But I didn't stop. Time was vital. Laniakea could be fighting for her life.

I run for what seemed like several miles and reach the cliff in about five minutes. The small bloody prints have since become large blots of crimson on a white canvas, but I was too tired to see. I collapse onto the ground, gasping for air.

 _In and out. In and out. You can't die here..._

I calm my breathing and force my head up towards my lifeline. My eyes widen.

My lifeline had been cut.

The bloody trail of Laniakea's footsteps led directly to the end of the cliff. I crawl over to it, with my hands clawing against the wet grass underneath the snow. Below, I hear the roar of an icy river.

"Damn it!"

I slam my fist into the ground, and my tears fall onto the cold snow.

The distance between the cliff and the river was easily several hundred feet. The river was deep, but large boulders protruded out onto the surface. The water was easily below freezing.

She had jumped, and it was likely she hadn't survived.

I spent the next few hours unable to move, overcome with grief. My hands shook ferociously as my cold body laid on the thick snow. I had nobody to live for. No one to turn to. Nobody to call my friend. Nothing but a demon whispering lucid thoughts into my frail mind.

I had broken my promise. I had failed. By letting Azazel take over my body, I had allowed this to happen. I was nothing but the worst scum of this earth. An accomplice to the devil.

I left the cliff a broken man.

* * *

 **...?**

It was cold. So...very...cold.

The wind bears down on me like a hurricane would to a rickety straw hut. Snow pelts and melts through my thick jacket, chilling me to the bone. It was so cold that my very skin was beginning to turn blue, and icicles formed at the tip of my nose. Parts of my wet jacket froze against the brutal elements, and it made it hard to do anything but walk.

I was caught in the middle of a blizzard. I was uncertain of my location, but I could care less. I no longer held any sort of self-preservation for my life.

What was the point? How could I derive any meaning from my continued existence...

 **...**

It's December now. I've been wandering the plains aimlessly, nothing more than a husk of a man. The snow continues to be unforgiving as ever, but for now, at least, I've found a friend.

"Sister...care for a drink?"

I extend my steel flask towards my companion. Lumina. She was healthy as ever and looked at me with red eyes underneath her thick woolen jacket.

She says nothing. I beckoned her for a response, but all I receive is a tantalizing silence.

"..."

I answer with a slurred voice. It was fitting for a hopeless drunk man.

"No? Alrighty then."

I empty the last of my alcoholic beverage into my mouth. It was bitter to taste, but it allowed my mind to go numb. An unfeeling mind to accompany an unfeeling body. I feel nothing like I was in a space between the void of mind...and reality.

It was early in the morning, and I had taken shelter atop a small hill overlooking the open terrain. It was a quaint area, with no features besides the cold snow, and a large gray boulder. I rested my back on this boulder and wondered where I could get more beer.

 _Maybe another village nearby could give me some. I doubt it though...I don't have any money. I might just have to take it._

 _Hm?_

I gaze out past the boundary of my camp and see two figures over the horizon. Taking out my binoculars, I take a deeper look of their unfamiliar faces. Both were women, one with green hair, and the other lavender. Their thick, winterized fur coats were flawless and undamaged when compared to mine.

Two strangers. Probably visiting one of the nearby tribes. No one too significant.

* * *

Florina looks out towards the distance. Her bluish-green eyes were squinted as she observed the faraway hill.

She asked, "Is that him?"

Lyn takes her eyes away from a pair of binoculars. Despite the clarity provided by it, she still couldn't make out the face of the solitary man atop the hill. On top of that, his torn jacket hid any distinguishable clothing underneath.

Lyn replied, "I'm not sure, I'll have to check myself."

Florina looks down from her mount with mildly concerned eyes.

She said, "Are you sure that you don't want me to come with you?"

Lyn nodded her head and shifted her sword to a more suitable position. One that could be more easily drawn.

"Yes, this is my burden to bear. Do not interfere."

Florina sighed.

"Okay...but just know that if it looks like you're in deep trouble...I won't hesitate to come get you."

Lyn lightly smiles. Florina noted the few strands of white hair mixed with green. A permanent reminder of the demon she sought with so much vigor.

Lyn makes her way up the hill, warily doing as her eyes checked her target's every move. He continued doing nothing, besides blankly looking at the gray sky. The white snow crunches underneath her feet, but her light steps make them barely audible. The man had his back facing her as he sat by the boulder.

She doubted the man noticed her. The element of surprise was firmly in her hands.

"Hello, can I help you?"

Or not.

Lyn stops dead on her tracks as the man pokes he head out the side of the boulder. He had _very_ long black hair that obscured his face, along with an outfit in tatters. Faint spots of blood stained the surrounding snow, though Lyn could surmise why. Deep across the man's chest, the was a scar in the shape of a bear's claw.

Lyn replied, "N-No. I'm just looking for someone. Have you seen a man wearing a black mask along with a purple desert garb?"

The man shakes his head. After all, at that moment he had a white mask in his possession. He wasn't wearing it.

He said, "No, but I doubt you'll find him. Nobody can live out here for very long without shelter. The element are far too unforgiving."

Lyn raises her brow. She spies the solitary miniature snowman standing nearby,

She said, "What are you doing out here sir? Surely you must have a reason?"

Although Lyn had just met this man, she expressed a degree of concern for him. She hoped he wasn't planning to do what she suspected.

He pauses for a moment, and the solitary breeze from the north blows some snow towards their direction. Finally, he speaks with a tone filled with nothing but defeat.

He said, "I was looking for my niece...she was all I had left. I've made so many bad decisions that I've ruined everything. My lover hates me. I have no friends. Pains from past battles make simply existing a chore...and to top it all off voices in my head whispers devious temptations into my mind. It's frankly debilitating, and I've had enough."

Lyn feels her gut sink. Her tribe had a name for people like these. The Solitary Folk.

The Solitary Folk were people who lost their family and/or entire village to some calamity. They were so stricken with grief that they became paralyzed with their own sadness. Prisoners to their mind. Often times, tribes would either be too occupied or unwilling to help them, and they'd be left to their own devices. Many would turn to suicide as a way out, and since the deed was frowned upon by society, they'd wander out alone into the wilderness until they'd ultimately succumbed to the elements.

The thought left a sour taste in her mouth.

She looked the man straight in the eye. Or at least where they should have been. The man's thick, curly hair made it impossible to maintain eye contact.

She said, "I'm so terribly sorry. If it means anything to you, at one point I was in a similiar situation as you. I'm apart of the Lorca tribe, or what's left of it anyway. When my tribe was wiped out, I spent several months alone in the wilderness. I didn't know what to do with myself...but eventually I mustered enough strength to venture back into the world."

The man asked in a raspy voice, "What pushed you to return? How did you overcome this overbearing feeling of sadness?"

Lyn replied, "I didn't do it alone. For a while, I'd lock myself in my ger, doing nothing but lamenting about my lost loved ones. I'd leave to hunt and trade with the occasional merchant, but for the most part, I was a shut-in. It was a never ending cycle of sadness...but..."

Lyn pauses. She was lost in thought, as if she had just come to a grand conclusion herself.

"He...he changed all of that. I found him unconscious on the steppe, and after he came to, he helped me fend off a small bandit attack. It was then that I realized something. If I never leave my sheltered ger, I'd never gather the strength needed to achieve what I want above all else. To avenge the deaths of my people...my parents."

Lyn balls up her fist.

"I must avenge them. For the honor of my tribe...of myself."

The man sighed. He raises his head, and for a moment Lyn thinks she saw a splash of amber in his eyes.

He said, "What's so important about honor? It doesn't clothe or feed you. Nor does it keep me warm in this frigid weather."

Lyn's face goes red. It was clear this had slighted her.

She said, "It's everything! To a Sacaen, honor is more important than one's own life! It supersedes your own personal motivation, your morals, even the wishes of your loved ones. It-"

The man cut her off.

"It's a social construct. An imaginary concept, and in practical terms, it hold no quantitative value. Tell me, can you measure the amount of honor somebody has? We say some people are more honorable than other...but how can you prove that? You can't, and that's because It's nothing more than a tool people use to excuse otherwise unethical actions. You can see people using it as such everywhere. In Lycia, a noble cannot elope with a commoner because it would taint the name of their supposedly superior bloodline. In Bern, a man can kill another man for a perceived slight. In Etruria, two unmarried persons sleeping together are subject to half a year in jail. All of these actions would be seen as incredibly unjust and even evil, if it wasn't for that convenient avenue of our society's imagination."

Lyn takes a step back, and a drop of sweat falls down her forehead.

She said, "Y-You're wrong!"

But even she didn't believe that. In a way, her very existence represented a violation of honor to her grandfather...who didn't bless the relationship between her mother and father. It was only when her grandfather overcame his pride that her family was at last reunited.

Her mind was in shambles, along with her composure. Honor was something she'd always held dear to her heart. It was something that was ingrained into her very soul, an idea taught to her as a little girl by her parents. She wasn't about to let it go now.

Still, the green-haired nomad had no words for the freezing hermit. All she could do was stare at the young man.

He said, "Hm...you remind me of somebody I used to know. She had such a sweet heart...but I fear her vengeance might consume her. It's causing her to do things she otherwise might avoid doing..."

Lyn gasps. The young man just said something only two others had said to her before.

 _You have such a sweet heart...but I fear your vengeance might consume you..._

* * *

Wallace feels a warm brisk of wind tickle the kinks of his armor. It felt comforting and eased some of the aches he had sustained from the earlier battle. A battle he should've had no part in, but his retirement has taken a backseat, unfortunately. Still, the fact he wasn't relaxing by his tilled fields didn't bother him. His moral compass wouldn't have it any other way.

Yesterday, he was ordered by Lundgren to apprehend the supposed pretender to the throne. Instead, he joined their army and then proceeded to help them take an important fortification on their way to Castle Caelin. He hadn't planned it to go that way, but the case made by Lady Lyn was too damning to ignore. She shared the very eyes that Lady Madelyn had, and in some ways had a similiar face and body structure. There was no doubt in his mind that the green nomad from Sacae was the true heir to the Caelin throne.

Now, they were on their way to secure Lyn's birthright. Not that she wants it, from what he'd been told. She simply wants the opportunity to the only family she has left in its world...which was a cause Wallace could greatly respect.

Oh, all the things he would do if he could speak to his family again.

The sun bears down on him like a hammer. It was incredibly hot, a problem only worsened by the addition of his heavy steel armor. It was early summer after all, and although the season in Lycia wasn't as bad as in other places more south it still made walking incredibly tedious. Wallace had nothing but smiles when the tactician announced a stay in travel for a moment.

The legion had taken a break from marching for lunch. Most people had decided to sit down wherever they could in the forest and chat...but, not Wallace. He hardly knew anybody here besides Sain and Kent, both of which were currently speaking to the tactician.

They were talking about something involving catapults. Not that they needed them, right now Lundgren didn't even possess enough forces to defend against a siege.

He takes a bite of the salmon biscuit he made for himself. He puckers his lips as he noted the incredibly salty nature of his dish, a necessity given that food preservation techniques were fairly primitive. This was a far cry from the bacon and egg breakfasts he had grown accustomed to on his farm, but he continued to eat nevertheless. He needs his energy...

"Excuse me, General Wallace. May I join you?"

He nearly chokes on his meal as the voice catches him off guard. For a split second, he thinks that Lady Madelyn had risen from the grave the enforce judgment on the living...but he soon dismissed such fantasies away. The voice came from none other than Lyn of the Lorca, the daughter she shared many traits with.

"Sure. I don't see why not."

The young lady takes a seat by the old general. Despite the fact they were currently in a power struggle over the fate of Caelin, I didn't seem to effect Lyndis at all. She had a spring to her step that reflected plenty of optimism for the future, and her bright smile was the materialization of that.

It was a smile he hadn't seen often on Madelyn. The last time she saw it on her was when he caught her and Hussar near the Lycia/Sacae border. It had moved him so much then that he allowed them to leave the country, much to Lord Hausen's displeasure.

"Is there something wrong General? You're staring off into space."

Wallace snaps back into reality. Lyn had a piece of bread in her hands, with light crumbs on her blue collar. Her head was slightly tilted.

Wallace replied, "Er...yes I am. I'm just reminiscing about the past. You remind me so much of your mother."

Lyn lowers her head. She herself began thinking about the woman she lost a long time ago. The woman that gave up a pampered existence of nobility to live with her father.

She said, "Were...were you close with my mother?"

Wallace shakes his heads

"No...but I was well aquatinted with her. When she was just a young girl sometimes I'd put her on my shoulders and parade her across the palace. Hausen didn't like that much, but I didn't care. Seeing a smile on her face made it all worth it."

Lyn wipes some of her green hair from her face. Doing so revealed a pair of slightly tearful orbs of green.

She said, "Yes, I miss her smile. I miss my mother. I...miss my parents."

Wallace remembers the briefing given to him by the pair of Lycian knights. Lyn had lost both of her parents by the hand of the Taliver bandits, who were assisted by a mysterious mage. Talking about her parents was a sensitive issue to Lyn, and it brought her much pain.

Wallace said, "I understand your pain. I lost my parents a long time ago...along with my brother, I no longer have any family to speak of...save for the knights I've fought with in the past."

Lyn dries up her wet eyes with her sleeve. No tears ever rolled down her cheek.

She said, "I see...it appears we have more in common than I initially thought."

Wallace gives a hearty laugh. The thought that he, the old veteran, shared something with the young heiress seemed a bit ironic to him. Lyn follows suit and the entire atmosphere changes.

Wallace said, "You know what girl? I like you! You're nothing like these petty nobles I've grown wary of."

Lyn replied, "I was raised as a plainswoman. The way of nobility is completely foreign to me..."

The two ate their lunch talking about different topics ranging from agriculture to how Madelyn was as a child. They shared laughs, yawned at complicated details, and overall had a good time. Eventually, the conversation went to the subject of how Lyn came to begin her journey.

Wallace asked, "What drives you Lyndis? What compelled you to leave the isolation of your home to partake in this journey?"

Lyn spends a moment in thought. But it doesn't take her long to come up with her answer.

She said, "I wanted to get stronger. I knew that if I never left my home then I'll never achieve the one thing I desire."

Wallace looks Lyn intently in the eye. The peaceful expression on her face now had a burning inferno for eyes. She looked angry, though from afar she could appear normal.

Wallace asked, "What is that?"

Lyn replied, "I want to avenge my family...my tribe. I want to gather so much strength that I alone can arrive at their camp's gates. Then, once I break their weapons...I'll break them. I'll call out every single name of the people they so senselessly slaughter all that time ago. It will only be when they cry for mercy that I'll end their worthless lives. Finally, I'll find the man who killed my parents before my very eyes...and I'll cut him down with these two hands."

The fire in her eyes goes out as if she had just got out of a trance. Wallace looks at her with wide eyes, utterly dumbfounded.

That was intense. It was not something he was expecting from the seemingly kind hearted sacaen.

Wallace said, "By Elimine...Lyndis have you lost it?"

Lyn breaks into a cold sweat. She knows that she just did something wrong.

She said, "Oh my! I-I lost control! I'm..."

Wallace lightly waves his hand to dismiss her.

"This isn't right Lyndis. I can see where you're coming from...but I can't approve this. The path you're going down has nothing but pain and regret."

Lyn protested, "But the honor of my tri-"

Wallace cut her off. He spoke with a strict, but soft tone.

"Lyndis listen to me. I've seen many things in my life...terrible things. I've seen so many good men become monsters for tragedies similiar to the one you went through. Please, rid your mind of these devious thoughts."

Lyn looks away from the authoritative gaze of the old general. She focuses on a nearby patch of grass.

Wallace said, "Lyn look at me. Look at my eyes."

Lyn stands up and clears her throat. She continues to avoid eye contact.

"I think we're done here general. I believe the tactician may be needing me soon for the march. Good day to you."

Wallace sighs. It was clear she wasn't going to listen to him.

Wallace said, "Okay...fine. But let me leave you with this. Lyn...you have such a sweet heart...but I fear your vengeance may consume you. Please...think this through before you do anything. Sometimes, it's better to just..."

"Let go..."

* * *

Lyn balls up her fist as if to punch the bearded hermit, but she relents. Angry tears form around her eyes, and she looks upon the young man with shrouded disdain.

She said, "Y-You don't know me."

The hermit smirks. Although at first glance it could've have been taken as a sarcastic gesture, upon further inspection Lyn realized something. This was no slight against her, rather, it was one inspired by pain and regret.

 _What...had this man gone through?_

"You're right Lyndis, I don't know you."

Lyn immediatly draws her blade and points it at the hermit. He does nothing stare blankly at its tip.

"How do you know my name?" she asks.

Despite the seriousness of the situation, he did not express any panic. In fact, he didn't show any visible emotions at all. Lacking fear, he casually stood up from his sitting position.

He said, "I suppose some of my memory is coming back right now. It's a pity too, I'm afraid I ran out of booze recently."

He turns to leave, but the young myrmidon blocks his path.

Lyn said, "I'm afraid I can't let you go. You need to answer some questions for me."

"I can't do that for you, miss"

The hermit pushes Lyn aside, and she quickly pushes back. He nearly falls to the ground, and as he regains his balance, Lyn grabs his arm. This attempt to apprehend him quickly went toward the green nomad's favor.

"I have you! Now you mu-"

Lyn goes silent. To her surprise, she realizes that the man's right arm was missing something. His right hand. There was nothing there, with just a bony, bandaged stubble in its place.

"By Elimine..."

She let's go. The hermit rubs his amputated limb with care...her grip was tight. Perhaps a bit too tight...even for him.

She said, "I-I'm so sorry...I mistook you for someone I knew."

He doesn't look at her direction. He silently begins to gather his things. It was obvious the gesture had shaken him...even if only a little.

Lyn felt terrible. He had come up here prepared to take this man's life...and in her crusade to avenge her people...she realized her vengeance had led her to harm an innocent. This went directly against her moral code, and her gut sank as she continued to see this husk of a man prepare to leave.

The hermit said, "Tell me m'am. Am I going to be able to change your mind?"

Lyn stays steadfast. Although she knew it was getting harder and harder to do so. She replied with one word.

"No."

He sighs. It wasn't one of disappointment, but oddly, of relief.

The hermit clears his throat, "I see. I suggest you stop looking for your little friend then miss. Nobody can live very long out here in the wilderness. It's likely...no I'm certain he's a dead man."

"Wait...mister!"

She turns to him, but to her amazement the man was already gone. Nothing stood in front of her except a small snowman, with a couple of black rocks for eyes. Nearby, a small book caught her eye.

 _Hm...that's odd. What is this?_

She picks it up and notes the rugged, brown leather binding it. It had wear and tear, probably due to the owner's excessive traveling. The cover was nearly torn off from abuse, but she could just barely make out the crude lettering.

 _Militaris ratio est: Kaxtant Glacies Scire_

The wording was in some ancient language, and she didn't recognize it. Granted Lyn was completely illiterate, so she was incapable of reading a journal, even if it was written in Elibean.

She pocketed the book and vacated the premises. She was curious about the identity of that mysterious man, but there was no point of pondering on it know. At a moment like this, Lyn was only certain of one thing.

He was gone. Samuel was gone. It was time to go home, and if she hurried perhaps she'd make it back in time for the winter holiday.

* * *

I looked down at the white rapids. The rough waters were clear and polluted, but were far from inviting.

I had been here only a few days before, atop this cliff. The vivid crimson staining the snow had become a light pink, and the snow a foot deeper. It was a few degrees colder, although at this point such details didn't matter to me.

The sun hung high in the sky. It was as bright...and it brought back cheerful, optimistic memories of old. In particular, it brought me back to where this all began, on the day where I first met Lyn. The sun was similar in that to me, it represented a major change in my life. Then, it brought hope to a younger, less cynical self looking forward to my journey with the most beautiful I had ever met. Now, a more grizzled me looks upon that same star one last time.

It will be my last. I had come to the decision that there was only one way out. One way to stop the endless suffering caused by the demon dwelling within me. One way to get away from the terror of war. One way to rid myself of the pain of losing the one person I swore to protect. One way to spare Lyn from killing me, and in turn damning herself to a lifetime of regret. One way to rid myself of this non-stop pain...

Elimine, forgive me for what I'm about to do. I've decided...that it's time to take my own life.

I look across the horizon just as a strong gust of wind blows south...in the direction of the river below. Perhaps this a sign from the gods themselves...if they exist.

Was I being selfish? Am I prioritizing my own desires over the ones of others? What good would the world lose by my passing? It doesn't matter. None of this matters. It's all going to be over soon. I need to do this...before my mind deteriorates to the point that Azazel can take control again.

So...I do the only thing that seemed right. I gaze out through the flat Sacaen plain. It's the place I started...and it's only fair that its the place I end it all.

I take a deep breath...and do my duty.

I jumped.


	38. New Resolve

**Chapter 34: New Resolve**

 **By: SodiumChloride12, derived from Fire Emblem, owned by Nintendo.**

 **A/N: As mentioned earlier, this will be the last chapter I'll be posting until next month. This'll give me enough time to write on my new fic, along with brainstorming on this one. College is difficult, but I'm certain that I'll be able to continue posting on a weekly basis. So, if you want to keep reading my work, go ahead and check out "Samuel Eisner: The Ashen Demon". I posted it along with this one, so it shouldn't be hard to find.**

 **Thank you for staying with me all this time. It's crazy that I'm nearly halfway done with this project! I'll work hard to keep on writing high-quality content...I can guarantee that.**

* * *

I open my eyes, and there was no light in sight. It was nothing but pitch-black darkness, no different than an all-consuming void. The sight reminded me of an urban night sky, where all the stars were crowded out due to light pollution. But unlike the city, it seemed like I was alone in this darkness...with no other soul in sight.

My body behaved as normal, and I reached my hand out in curiosity. To my amazement, my arm glowed in contrast with the darkness, resembling stardust as it did so. Oddly enough, I was still clothed in the purple outfit I'd been wearing for so long, and it contained none of the impurities that it had earlier. No torn fabric, and no blood-stains. It was like I had never been to war, and all my scars had been washed away.

 _Huh?_

I blink, and all of a sudden the area around me changes. My feet slowly feel their way onto harder ground, although the surface still resembled the void. In front of me stood a large staircase overlooked by a gray, stone throne. Just like myself, the structure radiated slightly with a greenish glow.

 _What is this place? Why...does it seem so familiar?_

This feeling...I suppose I could call it deja vu. It's like I'd been here before...but I could not recall doing so. Not in this life anyway...but perhaps in another?

No...thoughts like those are grounded outside of reality. There's no way I could have ever been here...I'm certain of it.

"My my...you've gone and done it...haven't you?"

I couldn't believe my eyes. One minute the throne was vacant, but now a green-haired child-occupied it. I recognized her as well...it was none other than the goddess Sothis.

I rub my eyes to make sure I wasn't dreaming, but Sothis continued to look down on me from her elevated position of power. She lazily balls up her fist and rests her face on it, as if that sarcastic gesture could make this situation any more real.

I raise my gaze to meet hers. Her green eyes reminded me of someone I held dear, but I pushed that thought to the gallows of my mind.

She spoke to me with an incredibly condescending tone.

"I can't believe you. Some high power grants you a second chance in another world only for you to throw it away. How despicably...inconceivably short-sighted of a mortal you are."

I look away in shame...and say nothing.

"Look at me."

Suddenly, Sothis disappears into a cloud of golden dust. Within seconds, she reappears a mere foot away from me. She jumps and grabs my chin to bring it closer to her face.

"Do you understand what you have done?"

I pull away in a bid to escape. However, an invisible wall blocks my path. I push against with all the strength I could muster...but it was all in vain. At this point, I have no choice but to suffer whatever jawing this goddess has in store for me.

Sothis said, "Oh, you impudent child. You can't escape from this."

I look at her with tired eyes. She looks into them, and she notes my utter exhaustion and deep pain. She tilts her head with curiosity and sighs.

She said, "You really are more trouble than you're worth...but I can't say I don't feel obligated to help you."

 _Help? How can anyone help me?_

I asked, "How can you do that? I'm already dead, and it's not like you can turn back the hands of time."

Sothis shakes her, "You're right about that. Although it is true that I used to wield such a power...I'm afraid that this realm restricts my abilities. But as for your life..."

A crack of light ruptures directly above us. It was blindingly white, and nothing was distinguishable through it. Initially, I was confused about its presence. But it didn't take long for me to understand it's significance.

I was...still alive.

I said, "H-How?! There's no way I could have survived that!"

Sothis replied, "If you were any other human than that would have been the case. However, although you have free will, biologically speaking you're still a creation of Nergal. The black magic that courses through your veins has made you abnormally tough, thus allowing you to survive such injuries."

That explains a lot. I had suffered so many injuries in the past that should have outright killed me...and I had always thought my life was spared due to luck. But now...I understand it wasn't that at all. Had it not been for Nergal's good craftsmanship...I'd be six feet underground right now.

But was it a blessing...or a curse?

I asked, "But then why am I always in pain?"

Sothis replied, "Your body might be tough...but that doesn't mean you're immortal. The injuries you suffered were brutal, and I recommend that you get medical attention for them. But I understand that in your given situation that's impossible."

A noise resembling a tree snapping in half fills my ears. The crack above us doubles in size, along with its luminosity.

Sothis said, "I suppose it's near the time for you to go back. You'd best prepare yourself."

Upon hearing those words, I freeze up. I remember all the tragedies I'd bore through in my life...and the thoughts make me tear up.

"I don't want to go back. I have nothing else to live for."

Sothis looks at me blankly for a second. Then, without warning, she flattens her hand and slaps me squarely across the face.

That hurt.

I exclaimed, "Ow! What's wrong with you?!"

She angrily replied, "I should be asking that of you. Do you really think you're alone in your suffering? That in your darkest moments...no one was looking over you?"

"Huh?"

Sothis continued, "Samuel listen to me. Every moment of pain...every death...every battle...I was there. I couldn't say anything because of Azazel's influence, but I still saw everything. True...I didn't feel the physical pain...but I bore with you the emotion. When Wallace died, I felt sorrow. When Lumina perished, I sobbed. When Lyn broke your heart, I languished. I know why taking your own life could seem the only way out...but I want to tell you that it's not."

Suddenly, she wraps her arms around me for a hug. Her grip was tight, and with her head on my body, she began to cry. I cry with her, and we shared a somber moment.

She said, "Please...it may not look like it but you have so much to live for. You may suspect that Laniakea may be dead...but we don't know until we see her body. Lyn may have broken your heart...but there are so many other good women in this world. If you don't have any friends...then go to a place where you can get new ones. Please, promise me one thing."

She shifts her eyes towards me. They were still wet with her tears, but I could see a glimmer of hope within them.

"Promise me that you'll never do something like that again. I want you to live. I want you to live a good life. Together, I hope we can make that a reality. Regardless of what it takes."

 _Oh my God..._

I felt touched. No one in the surface world had ever expressed this amount of care for me, save for Lyn.

I asked, "Why...why are you being so nice to me? It doesn't make any sense, why would a goddess like you want anything with a mortal such as myself?"

She smiles and blushes slightly.

She said, "I suppose in the months of observation, I've become fond of you. I know you feel that no one looks out for you...so I've taken it upon myself to become your guardian."

I raise my eyebrow.

"Guardian?"

She nods and points towards an area far away. She gives a command, and a light shines on a being inside of a cage. The being had my silhouette and was surrounded by an aura of evil. I recognized him as Azazel.

Sothis said, "I've managed to trick him...and now he's in no position to torment you. I'll only be able to keep him here for a month, but in that time, I'll be the voice in your head in his stead. That way, you'll always have someone with you. No matter where you are."

Azazel's voice was the single most unbearable scourge to my mind. It made me feel like a prisoner stuck inside of a cell with no key...but with his influence gone...

Then maybe life could actually be bearable.

I said, "Sothis...Thank you."

She pouts and turns away.

"You better be grateful. Keeping him here means I won't be able to sleep for a month."

Although Sothis hadn't mentioned it before...I understood why the goddess was mildly upset.

Sothis enjoys her naps.

Suddenly, a beam of light comes down from the bright fissure. It began to lift me up from the ground, and Sothis looked on with optimism.

She waves her hand goodbye.

She exclaimed, "I'll see you on the other side!"

Given everything that had happened to me...I felt something within my heart. It wasn't something I had experienced in a long time.

Hope. Hope for the future...for a happier time.

I smile for the first time in months...and as the light took me higher and higher...

I vanish.

* * *

A familiar, cold wind brushes across my body. The bright sun makes me feel dizzy as I open my eyes, but that sensation soon subsided. My hands reaches for the ground for support, and I feel a sandy substance.

 _Where am I?_

Looking around, I see that I was no longer on the Great Plains of Sacae. Rather, I was in a heavily wooded area, where the once mighty Okecheebo river had deafened into a small stream. I had floated upstream several miles to a river delta, and now I laid on a frosty sand bed.

As usual, my body aches with pains, but now it was much more obvious now that the theriac had begun to wear off. I made an attempt to get up, but I ended up with a face full of sand instead.

Suddenly, I heard a familiar voice.

 **Sothis:** Taking a snooze huh? If I can't sleep then you can't either.

 **Sam:** Cut me a break...

Despite the snark remark, her voice felt reassuring. For a month at least, I knew I wouldn't be alone.

Faraway, I see a fawn and her mother warily eyeing the nearby environment. They were watching for danger; predators to be more specific.

 **Sothis:** If your memory serves, then I think we're several miles up the river. That should put us a week's walk away from the Firal mountains correct?"

The Firal Mountains are a large mountain chain that marks the border between Sacae and Illia. At the center of this range is the Great Divide, an enormous gap of navigable plain and forest. The pass going through the Great Divide is the only practical route to get to Illia through the south.

 **Sam:** Yes. Though I think right now we should spend our time looking for little Lani. Based on the fact I don't see a body, I think there's a very real chance she could still be alive. I don't know how she's survived this far down the line...but I'm not willing to leave her fate to chance.

 **Sothis:** Best get moving then.

I stand up from the sandbar and take my first real step. Despite the long nap, my body was tired, and my nagging ankle made it difficult to walk. Regardless, I made my way to the forest to continue my long search.

My stomach rumbles with hunger. Placing my hand above it, I lament about the last meal I had a few days ago. I'd have to find a new one very soon, otherwise Sothis' intervention would have been for naught...

* * *

It was midday, several hours after I initially woke up at the delta. The forest environment had deteriorated into a frozen tundra, with tall lanky trees, thick snow, and small isolated pockets of grass. The sun hung high in the sky, but it could do nothing to lessen the frigid cold seeping through me. A problem only exacerbated by my insufficient caloric intake.

My solution was merrily sipping water from a condensates puddle near a hot spring. It was a medium-sized elk with a four-pointed rack.

I smacked my lips as I fantasized digging my teeth into its flesh. It had been some time since I'd had deer meat...but at this point, I'd do with elk.

My body shivers as I duck to avoid its sight. Its thick winter coat would do well to replace the one I had in tatters.

 **Sothis:** These thoughts of yours are...barbaric.

 **Samuel:** If I have to bear another second of looking at this thing, I think I'm going to go insane.

 **Sothis:** Ugh! How exactly do you plan to catch this beast anyway?

Since I only had use of one hand, traditional hunting was out of the question. I couldn't draw back a bow, nor did I have bait to icefish. That only left one option.

Traps.

Of course, I didn't know how to trap animals. So far, I'd been going off knowledge from a book I'd read in high school. I think it was called...The Revant.

 **Sothis:** You fool. It was called the Revenant.

Usually, I'd be upset at this blatant violation of privacy. But in this case, I just kept my mouth shut.

I- We waited for my scheme to take effect. It was a simple contraption, one that I had to make off of nearby twigs and grass. I placed some bread nearby the spring, which was the serve as bait. Then, I used the frozen grass to make some crude rope, which I then tied into a noose. Using the rope, I made a simple pulley system that would be activated at the slightest stimulus of pressure. At activation, the rope will pull whatever limb the elk had attached to it into the air.

Ideally, due to the bread's position at the center of the noose's diameter, the limb pulled would the elk's neck. This would create a lynching effect...meaning that no further action would be needed by me to end the beast's life. Otherwise...

Eh, I'll cross that bridge when I get there.

SNAP!

 **Sothis:** Success!

I peek my head over my hiding place, and to my delight, I saw that the animal had fallen for my trap. His brown body was three feet in the air, and he was squirming to break through his bind. My gaze shifts over to my noose...which was firmly wrapped around the animal's foot.

If only my moment of victory had lasted for a few more seconds.

"HUWAAAAAAAAGH!"

Thud!

The elk falls onto the snowy ground and immediately gets on his feet. Blood drips from his foot, and it breathes heavily in anger. Then, it shifts its gaze...and its long antlers towards me.

 **Sothis:** Run.

"HUWAAAAAAGH!"

The elk screeches at me, the sound of which was so frightening that my eardrums popped. It ducks its head and attacks me, but I manage to roll over to my side and dodge the blow.

I stand up and run for my life. I dodge trees, stray twigs, and exposed puddles of ice in a bid to outrun this four-legged behemoth. The beast easily fells any vegetation it came across, but luckily the flimsy timber was able to slow its momentum.

I turn the corner past some open forest and towards higher ground. Right as I'm about to reach the top of the hill, I feel something cave in on my weak ankle.

SNAP!

"Agh!"

I fall over flat on my face, but when I tried to get back up, my foot was paralyzed with pain. I immediately realized what had just happened. This was the same injury I had sustained many times over in my old life.

I had just torn my Achilles' tendon.

 **Sothis:** Get up Samuel! That elk is almost upon us!"

 **Sam:** I-I can't!

I look on with terror as the elk quickly closes in on me. With the elk easily outweighing me by several hundred pounds, its antlers would make mincemeat out of me. I quickly draw out my red dagger to stage a crude attempt to defend myself, but even I knew I stood no chance. Not with just one hand, or even with both.

But just as I was about to begin death's dance...fate had other plans.

THWACK!

The elk's massive body falls onto the ground like a lumbering giant. An arrow was jutting out of its head, with red crimson staining the red snow. It laid still, with its black eyes looking at me with disdain.

I said, "What the..."

I hear a voice permeate from a nearby bush, and its accompanying figure emerges from its snow-covered bristles. He was covered in white-camouflaged nomadic attire, with long boots, a thick overcoat, and what appeared to be a du-rag covering his green hair. His green bow was firmly in his right hand, and with a quiver full of arrow resting on his waist.

My eyes widen, and my gut fills with fear. Despite the change in appearance, I immediately recognized my savior. It was none other than Rath of the Kutolah...

* * *

The sun rests on the western half of the sky. Its orange glow suggests that we would soon be aquatinted with the night sky; serving as a grim reminder of the inevitability of the passage of time.

I warm myself by the inviting embers of our campfire. Fringe pockets of ice slave off my skin as I do so, with freshwater dotting the surrounding snow black. I smile as Rath throws in another dry piece of wood into my saving grace.

Rath said, "It's nice to see that you're doing well tactician."

Behind him perched on a stand was an elk pelt. We had spent the past hour skinning Rath's kill and preparing it for dinner. I had a gummy feeling in my gut when I saw Rath cleaving through the beast's skins with his knife...but all of that went away when I filled my stomach with elk stew.

I replied, "Likewise."

We had spent the past few hours catching up months of not having seen one another. After our little "incident" in Castle Caelin, Rath was thrown in prison on the orders of Lord Hausen. However, due to his role in helping his granddaughter (along with some persuasion from Lyn herself), he was soon let go. Afterward, the young nomad decided to return to his roots in Sacae and had been living off the land ever since.

He had run into me while he was hunting for food. Not only did he save my life, but now he was sharing his food.

 **Sothis:** Didn't this man try to kill you earlier? Why is he so friendly now?

 **Sam:** I wouldn't exactly call this being friendly. He's fairly cold...and scarce for words.

Rath raises his head from a small wooden sculpture he was hand carving. It was in the shape of Enki, a sprite that supposedly granted good luck to travelers in the forest.

"You're probably wondering why I'm helping you right now."

I silently nod my head. Rath shifts his posture on the tree log he was sitting in and clears his throat.

He said, "Well...to be frank, I feel quite guilty for what I did to you last summer. I gave you all those terrible injuries...and for what? You weren't the target I was looking for."

I tilt my head in curiosity.

I asked, "Target?"

Rath replied, "Yes. It was prophesied that a great burning will engulf Elibe. I am to assist in stopping this burning...and since you share a body with the fire-wielding demon Azazel...I thought you fit the bill."

 **Sothis:** It appears that Lyn or somebody else had already discussed to him about your..."problem". How convenient.

 **Sam:** Please refrain from saying her name again...

I said, "That's fair enough. I figure I probably would have done the same thing in your position."

Rath said, "I apologize for what I had done. I thought that by killing you, I could fulfill the prophecy and finally return home. Please...take my condolences."

He stands up and bows his head down. I'd be lying if I said it didn't make me a bit touched.

What would I do to return home? Granted, I didn't have one to speak of, yet what if I did? To what lengths would I go to see the family in my old life again?

The answer didn't need much deliberation. I'd go to the center of the earth if I had to.

I said, "Get up Rath. That won't be necessary. You have my forgiveness."

He lifts himself from his bowing position and does something I'd seldom see him do.

He smiled.

 **...**

Rath asked, "So, you need help finding a little girl?"

I replied, "Yes, and as soon as possible. She ran off a month ago and I'd been trying to find her since."

He looks at me skeptically. He said the obvious.

"She's likely dead."

I ignored the massive uppercut to my heart.

"I have reasons to believe she's still alive. How do it say it...she's at least half manakete. She's built a bit tougher than most human girls her age."

He scratches the back of his head. The du-rag he wore crumbled under the pressure.

"Still, it's incredibly unlikely she's still alive. A month without food or water...I just don't want to go looking for someone if there is no point."

"Oh..."

I slouch over and dig my head into my hands. I was stressed...and made a point out of it.

Rath looks at me unflinchingly. Then, after a moment's pause, he relents.

"Fine. What can you tell me about her?"

My face lights up, and I immediately dwell into everything I knew about her.

I said, "Well, she looks like a six-year-old girl. About 3 foot nine inches...and has white, curly hair. She's got fair skin, and some adorable freckles on her ch-"

Rath facepalms.

"No, Mark. I meant you should have followed a trail for you to get here right? Did you find anything odd about it?"

I replied, "Er...yeah I did actually. I saw a pair of prints belonging to a bear near Laniakea's trail. There was a scuffle, and she escaped by jumping into a river. I followed that river, and eventually, I ended up here."

I omitted...certain parts of my story. Rath gave me a puzzled look.

"That's odd."

I replied, "What is?"

"There are no bears on this side of the Firal mountains. The only mammals nearby capable of large footprints should be the direwolves."

I curiously raise my eyebrow, "Direwolves?"

Images of furry giants came to mind. I'd known that Elibe was home to a plethora of fantastic creatures like pegasi and homunculi, but I'd never heard of direwolves inhabiting this world. I would have found their existence intriguing, had it not been for Rath's next few words.

"Direwolves are known to hunt small prey in packs. They're a persistent bunch and won't stop until they either secure the kill or lose one of their own. If Laniakea really did escape, then it's likely those Direwolves are still on her trail."

I immediately stand up, but the strain my recklessness put on my ankle caused me to keel over. Rath lent his shoulder for support.

He asked, "Are you alright?!"

I said dismissively, "I'm fine! We need to go find her right now! We can't waste another minute."

He looked at me like I was crazy. Thing is, I kinda was.

"You can barely walk, much less fight some Direwolves."

I shot back, "Well, you said we only need to kill one of them. That should be no problem when I have the best archer in Sacae!"

He rolled his eyes, "Flattering me isn't going to get you anywhere Mark."

"Please, call me Samuel."

He replied, "Wh- Nevermind. Where I stand still doesn't change."

I gave the best smile could muster. The gesture sent a sharp pain down to my stomach.

"Come on man. You owe me."

 **Sothis:** Are you really going to drop that low? Do you have no honor?

 **Sam:** Honor is meaningless.

Rath looks at me with a blank stare. He was contemplating what I had just said, but I knew he wasn't going to say no. Paying back debt was second only to honor for a sacaen.

Rath sighed, "Fine. I've already located the direwolves' den. If they caught up to your friend, then they should have taken her there. Assuming the wolves still have a cache of food, Laniakea would be kept alive for a few days. Do you have an elixir ready?"

I nodded, and dig into my jacket to retrieve a concoction of healing magic I had bought in Porrety. The condensed white magic was so strong that it had taken the form of a liquid, and would fix any physical injury that Laniakea would have sustained. Everything, save for severe blood loss, repeated fractures, or a concussion.

Rath looks over at the sun which was beginning to set. He grinds his boots into the snowy ground and whispered a traditional prayer. It was a prayer I remembered Lyn reciting once; the prayer of the hunt.

Rath said confidently, "Alright. Let's go..."

* * *

Laniakea wakes up with a severe headache. She hadn't eaten for hours, and her stomach rumbled. She was disoriented, though the cloud that hung over his mind began to lift.

She began to make sense of her surroundings, and she realized that she was in an unfamiliar place. Stalactites and other rock formations lined the ceiling and walls. It was damp and echoey, and bats slept soundly nearby. There was no doubt about it, this was a cave.

"GRRRRRR..."

Startled, Laniakea jumps up as she spots the silhouette of a large beast. It looked similar to a wolf, but had triple the size, and double its ferocity. Its eyes were solidly red, with no pupil to speak of. It had a thick, gray coat that was wet from winter snow.

Showing its sharp teeth, the direwolf intimidates the young girl. It was like the lone beast was daring her to move...or even to run away.

Laniakea backs up against a wall. Through her faulty vision, she manages to make out the bodies of several live animals. Sheep bleated, an elk's fawn slept, and other small animals occupied this space. Some of them appeared to be recent acquisitions, others seemed to have been here for a while, but all were under the watchful eye of this direwolf.

Laniakea's memory was hazy, but everything was beginning to come back to her now. She had been on the run for several weeks, first from that man, then from these wolf-like creatures. Unfortunately, the latter had caught up to her, leading to her current situation.

Lani was worried. She didn't know what these beasts had in store for her. But given the fact that these animals were carnivores, it didn't take much for her to figure out what it was.

I peeped through my pair of cracked binoculars. They had taken a beating during the stress test that was the Okecheebo river. However, they still worked just fine, and I was able to spot the entrance of the direwolves' den.

It looked like a stone golem had died with its mouth wide open to the depths below. Freezing water drips from the rocky stalactites, with each drop creating a distinctive echo through the cave.

It seemed deserted, though we wouldn't be completely sure until we went inside.

Rath said, "It's likely that the main pack has gone away hunting...though they'll return at dusk. It's important that we work quickly."

The sun had dropped further into the horizon. Taking out my pocket watch (which had somehow not been ruined), it read 5:00. Since the winter months had less daylight to work with per day, we had about an hour till nighttime.

I said, "Yeah...let's get on it then."

Together, we walked to the mouth of the cave, and just as we were about to enter, Rath's horse stopped. Rath tried to coax the animal forward, but he refused to budge.

Rath sighed, "Well...I suppose it'd be better if we stayed out here to keep watch. If trouble shows, I'll call out your name. Make sure to rush over here so we can escape."

I protested, "What if I run into something inside? I can't exactly defend myself you know."

Rath shifts his steed to face away from the cave. With his bow on his right and an arrow on his left, he stood like a sentry guarding a castle.

"I see...Do you know how to whistle?"

"No."

"What?!"

I shrug my shoulders.

"Never learned how."

Rath shakes his head and retrieves a shiny object from his pocket. It was a silver whistle, with the mark of the Helveti; a blacksmithing family based in Bulgar. He put it in my hands.

He said, "Don't lose this. If you do, you owe me 5000 gold. Use it to call for help if you need to. I'll leave my horse and come in ready to shoot."

 **Sothis:** Don't you owe people enough money already?

 **Sam:** Oh, I'm sorry. Are you my financial advisor?

"Thank you, Rath."

I enter the cave and wave my companion goodbye.

Walking through the ominous area, the daylight sleeping through the entrance began to diminish. The new resulting environment made it difficult to avoid the unusual rock formations jutting out into the air, and my foot lands on a suspiciously warm puddle of water.

 **Sothis:** It's warmer down here than on the surface.

 **Samuel:** It's likely the result of some geothermal heating. Remember we saw some hot springs earlier.

I feel my way towards the cavern walls, and through the dim light, something catches my curiosity. Primitive drawings of buffalo, elk, and...

 **Sam:** What the heck is this?

Big cats, giant mammoths, and direwolves were roaming the land. A tribe of elves in weird clothing were dancing around a fire. Trees covered with snow were everywhere, along with the mountains similar to the ones nearby. A plethora of fantastic beasts on a familiar landscape.

 **Sothis:** So, where did these creatures go?

I take a step back, and I realize that the entire scene was surrounded by what appeared to be a circle of human hunters. Some of them carried spears, while others used what I recognized as black magic. At the center of the top half of the circle, a taller man held a series of objects above his head.

 **Sothis:** This must be their leader.

The objects formed an arc, similar to the haloes seen in Greek/Byzantine artwork. The objects were a sabertooth fang, mammoth tusk, and elven crown. Finally, at the end of the arc was a direwolf coat, although the small drawing had been scratched off a long time ago.

 **Sam:** It appears that whoever drew this was apart of a grand hunt to eradicate the other races. None of them but the direwolves remain.

Sothis considered the modified portion of the artwork.

 **Sothis:** That drawing of the direwolf coat. You don't suppose that the humans intended this piece to commemorate their victory over their enemies? Perhaps after they discovered that the direwolves still lived, it was decided that some changes were in order. Hence why this portion seems so crude.

 **Sam:** That is a possibility. Really, anything could have happened. We can only go off what we see.

A drop of moisture falls onto the floor behind us. The unexpected noise startled us both.

 **Sothis:** We best get going. It isn't our job to piece this mystery together.

I continue down the cavern's depths. As I travel further and further down the echoey channels, I begin to hear a faint noise. They sounded like a trumpet blaring...no...

A sheep bleating?

"BAHHHH!"

I turn the corner and my eyes get blinded by some light coming from an opening in the ceiling. I give them a moment to reset, then I come to bear with an unusual sight.

A wide assortment of animals was crowded against the corner of a cavern wall. They stood there like livestock, though oddly enough there was no pen restricting their movement. It didn't take me long to figure out why.

A lone direwolf stood watching over its prey. It was a guard left by the pack to guard its food, which would presumably be slaughtered in due time. His attention was so fixated towards the animals that he didn't notice me.

I drew my dagger and prepared for a fight.

 **Sothis:** Woah! Don't be so hasty cowboy. First off, you need to see if Laniakea is among the flock.

 _Man, I hated it when someone told me what to do. But...she was right._

I scanned the flock for a familiar tuft of curly white hair, and sure enough, it was tucked away behind some sheep. I moved slightly to get a better view, and when I saw the hair's owner, I smiled.

I had finally found her.

She was curled up into a ball with her legs tucked in between her shirt. Her red eyes were full of fear and uncertainty, and I could tell she had been crying. As if sensing my presence, she turned to face me.

 **Sothis:** She's scared...

Her eyes widened, and she opened her mouth to scream. However, before she could do so, I raised my finger to my lip to silence her. I mouthed the words, "It's okay. I'm here to rescue you."

Somehow, perhaps out of sheer luck, that was enough to calm her for the time being.

I grip my dagger harder, and I begin to think of a plan of how I can deal with this direwolf...alone.

It was never my intention to allow Rath to come in here and help me take this beast down. Right now, Laniakea has a bad impression of me, no thanks to Azazel. If I was going to erase that image from her head, then I _had_ to be the only person to come to her rescue. It was the only way, and I was more than willing to put my body on the line to achieve it.

The odds were stacked against me. The direwolf outweighs me, can outmaneuver me, and is likely uninjured. I also have a torn Achilles to deal with as well. But, I do have one thing that this beast doesn't.

Intelligence.

I spot a looming stalactite above the direwolf's head. If I could hit that and manage to injure him, it would give me a decent advantage in close-quarters combat.

 **Sothis:** What you're planning is completely reckless. It would do you well to use that whistle that Rath gave to you. What happened to the rationality you prided so much?

I juggle the whistle inside of my pocket. It had a cool texture, similar to the ice flowing through my veins.

 **Sam:** I won't deny that this is foolish. Perhaps I've taken one too many hits to the head.

 **Sothis:** You're crazy. Please reconsider this.

I pause for a moment. I think about the risks associated with going at this solo. Higher likelihood of death or serious injury for myself...along with Lani's last lifeline being cut. Was that really a risk I was willing to take?

No, it wasn't.

I take a deep breath and send a startling shrill across the cavern's depth. The noise could have been heard for miles...including by the guard I was trying to avoid.

The direwolf raises its ears and looks directly at me.

 **Sothis:** This may have been a miscalculation on my part.

I take a defensive stance by a stalagmite jutting out from the floor. I could run, but this beats would likely catch up to me before I caught up to Rath. Besides...

There was no way in hell I was about to look like a coward in front of her.

The direwolf cautiously makes its way towards me. It comes within several feet from my person and shows razor-sharp teeth. We stare at each other for some time, as if reluctant to make the first move. The awkward silence was broken when I hear a low rumbling. At first, I thought that a tremor had begun to shake the earth, but then I realized that was far from the truth. The source didn't come from below...

It came from the direwolves' stomach. It was at that moment that I remembered we were in the middle of winter, a time where people and fauna alike suffered through starvation. Feeling the knapsack I had wrapped around my good shoulder, I recalled an old story I heard from my game warden uncle...

 _Should you ever find yourself being chased by a bear, just drop your knapsack onto the ground. The bear will be more enticed to get whatever is in that than whatever's in you._

I drop my knapsack onto the ground and make a break for my target. The direwolf took a step to follow me, but soon enough his nose got a whiff of the elk jerky I had in my pack.

I look over my shoulder and realize that the direwolf had stopped in his tracks. My plan had worked. But for how long?

 **Sothis:** It's best we don't try our luck. Take the girl and go.

Despite my injury, I dash in between gaps created by this cesspool of livestock. Most of which were complacent to let me pass, but others required more coaxing.

Finally, after pushing some sheep aside, I made it. She was sitting by some loose rocks and was doing her best to blend in.

I said, "Laniakea! I'm here to rescue you! Let's go!"

She looks at me with scared eyes and shakes her head.

"N-No! Y-You're...!"

I feel a pain in my right ankle, and struggle to stay standing. I plead with her.

"Please! If you don't come with me they'll kill you! You can trust me...I'm a friend of your sister."

She stops panicking and gives me a puzzled look.

"Sister? I didn't have a sister."

My heart sinks. Looking into the little girl's eyes, I realize that she isn't lying. Nor would it benefit her to do so either.

 _Had I picked up the wrong girl? No, that's impossible. That white hair and red eyes...and the name she went by. It's too much of a coincidence for her not to be Lumina's little sister. Unless..._

 _Lumina had lied to me._

Keeping a straight face, I asked, "Does...the name Lumina mean anything to you?"

Her next few words confirmed my suspicions. My body froze in shock. It all made sense now. I should have known when I noticed her curly hair earlier.

She said, "Yes...that's my mommy."

* * *

 **12 years ago...**

Lumina wraps a towel around her newborn child. She hadn't opened her eyes yet, but she knew that they'd radiate red with time. Her small tuft of white hair confirmed that her genes dominated in this child, although she was unsure if it would come out curly or straight. She hoped the latter would be true.

Yesterday, she had given birth to a baby she decided to name Laniakea. It was a name derived from a language from her home, a place she hadn't been for a long time. She had come from there alone with her parents over 700 years ago, and an unfortunate series of events led her to be enslaved by a cartel. But none of that mattered now.

As of today, she had someone else to live for. Not just herself, but a living, breathing part of her very soul. Someone to care for...someone to love.

She cradled her child lovingly. The father will never be apart of her life. She wasn't even certain who he was. But, she was certain of one thing.

Nobody is to know the truth. The fact that Laniakea is her daughter. The stigma associated with the conception of her would damn them both. Although that was something she was willing to bear through herself, she'd rather die than have it fall upon her child.

So, it was decided then. To the rest of the world, Laniakea will be her younger sister. But privately, between the two of them...

They were mother and daughter.

* * *

Laniakea and I left the cave in silence. For her, it was more out of fear than anything else. For myself, I was still trying to digest what I had just discovered.

Rath was on standby, bow in hand. He took one good look at the little girl I had with me, and I gave him a reassuring nod.

Rath was surrounded by several bodies of Direwolves. It was clear he was involved in a confrontation with the main pack, which was scared away after he felled several of their number. It was a valid reason, given he never went inside when I blew the whistle.

I lifted Laniakea up behind him on his horse. I could tell Rath wanted me to be up there instead due to my ankle, but he understood.

He asked, "Where to?"

I looked at him with an expression somewhere between the realms of betrayal and physical pain. One thing was on my mind.

Why wouldn't Lumina tell me about this?

For a moment, I pushed that thought away. Now was the time to make our next move. I said only one word.

"Illia."


	39. Guardian

**Chapter 35: Guardian**

 **By SodiumChloride12, derived from Fire Emblem, owned by Nintendo.**

 **A/N: Welcome back! I've decided to change my writing style. It involves longer paragraphs with more drawn out cadences to keep a steady rhythm within the story. I hope this change is noticeable and results in more involvement on your end.**

 **Hehe, what you guys are actually reading now isn't what I originally wrote a month ago. Fun fact, I wrote that entire draft on a flight back from Miami, when I was still in Summer break. So, when I came back to edit this, I realized what I had written was absolute trash. Luckily though, I'm actually two weeks ahead of my writing, so I was able to fix this up with no time penalty.**

 **On a side note, with a month break, I feel a lot more energetic when it comes to writing the stories. With my ever-diversifying repertoire of storytelling, I think I'm refreshed enough to keep at it going forward. With that being said, I'll be writing this chapter in addition to an arc that'll cover 3 more. The last chapter will be on November 1st; it might be Halloween related. I haven't decided yet. Also, the "Intermediate period" of this series will be ending soon in about 8 chapters**

 **Enjoy!**

 **N: Our hero continues his journey to the promised land, with Rath and Laniakea in tow. During the journey, he receives weird dreams of a distant past...what could this mean?**

* * *

Illia, the land of ice and snow. A country inhabited by a hearty, and just people. Despite that, they've sooner discarded their individualism in favor of a strict mercenary code, which values the needs of the pack over those of one. Because of that, power in this nation is not concentrated on one person, rather it is fractured among many. There is no federal government or even a king that rules over this land. Rather, a conglomerate of guilds operates within its borders, with varying amounts of territory under their jurisdiction. The separate guilds hold a non-aggression pact with one another, with the promise of keeping war outside of Illia's borders. With that being the case, the guilds hold free reign over the country, taxing and recruiting from their populations as they see fit. Ironically, just as the countries around them erupts into war from time to time, the country that sells the soldiers stays relatively peaceful. No war has touched this frozen wasteland since the Scouring.

It's a good thing this place has never been wrought with the tragedy of war. The land is beautiful, and the night sky stunning. Clean water flows in its streams, although much of it was in the form of thick ice. A few animals dwelled within the endless taiga forests, with nothing but the occasional patch of grass sustaining the tiny, but mostly peaceful population. The small villages that dotted the large landscape were few and far in between, but the isolation also served to deepen the relationships between the peasantry. This greater understanding with one another led many to take on tough jobs in mercenary work, as otherwise, the people in these unsustainable villages would starve due to the unfarmable land. It's a tough life being an Illian, a product of the land that gives so much...but also takes as much too.

I often wonder why Illian mercenaries don't decide to abandon their countrymen and take on a new life in Lycia, Bern, or some other country. Their lives would probably be easier that way, as then they could likely defect to some other mercenary corps or even take up some other trade to sustain themselves. Perhaps some do, but it is clear the vast majority do not. Maybe the answer lies within the relationships they hold back at home, or with the families they have to feed. But still, even that reality seems a tad shortsighted. No matter how well an Illian mercenary can work on the field, they cannot work thinking their sacrifice will save their children from the same fate. The life of a mercenary is the only life to look forward to for the common Illian, and the flames of war will likely live within these people for generations to come.

But, does it have to be that way? Despite the main pillar of civilization, agriculture, being a non-factor here, I know that this nation is teeming with resources. I am certain many minerals dwell within the towering mountains nearby, but the complete lack of infrastructure makes the extraction of such material impossible. Cobalt, Iron, Coal, the list goes on. These resources can form the bulwark for the new Illian economy if it wasn't for three things. The first is that there is no market for these minerals at a time as antiquated as this, save for iron. Secondly, the culture of Illia is so dependent on this warrior identity that I doubt they'd ever allow themselves to put down their swords in exchange for a pickaxe. Lastly, the nonexistence of a national government is perhaps the greatest obstacle to a better future for Illia, as no guild in this nation has the money nor the administration required to manage the extensive infrastructure projects needed to make mining sustainable. I predict Illia will continue to view war as its primary export, unless some massive change in the global landscape forces the country as a whole to change its ways for the better.

I say these things about Illia, but yet I find this place as my refuge. They treat foreigners different here, as they do not claim homage from the late holy knight Barigan. Thus, they are not subject to the same responsibilities as others that stay here and are void of the draft. The only responsibility they have to bear is the penalty of taxation to the reigning guild whose land they are residing, and the tax is expensive. I heard it was 1000 gold coins a month (1 year salary for the common peasant), though I am certain it is within my means to pay that. I might not have any money now, but my bank account does have a sizable amount of coin. In addition to that, I understand I'll have to get a job eventually, though definitely not in mercenary work. I'll be damned if I have to fight for anyone but myself or my loved ones again.

I had been thinking about this very problem for a while now. My lack of a hand makes doing things difficult, but it doesn't mean I'm completely useless. I still have a mind, a mind full of knowledge from my old world. Perhaps I can profit with my engineering background, a trait that can be quite useful in a world like this. Many things still lie uninvented, and if I could find a suitable sponsor, I could introduce this world to the wonders of the modern world. But, given my current situation, such a reality is out of reach as long this demon still lives within me. In addition, my reputation isn't exactly great, and it's likely I'll have to fake my death to shake the bad press. But, that doesn't mind me at all. I want to shed this nasty life I've lived thus far, and start a new beginning.

I'll make this work, in whatever way possible. I need to, not just for myself, but for the child I've decided to take on in my life. I need to do it for her, because although I understand her mother may have not lived the purest life, she still did mean to world to me. Even if she did deceive me of her true relationship with her child.

I will not break my promise to her. I will protect her daughter as if she were my own.

* * *

 _ **...?**_

 _I smile and take in a whiff of fresh, mountain air. I look out towards the sky and observe the fluffy white clouds, some of which were arranged to resemble common house pets. My body swerves and dips slowly and smoothly, like a baby being cradled by its mother. My feet rest over a concave wooden surface, not unlike the wooden hull of a pirate ship._

 _"Samuel, why are you staring out into space like that? Don't tell me you're upset about the one that got away."_

 _I became more aware of my surroundings, and I realize I was atop a small canoe over a vast lake of freshwater. The land was warm but carried with it an accent of cold. Endless streams of trees dotted the landscape, with an eagle perched atop a nearby evergreen. I couldn't recognize where I was, or who I was with, but I knew this was an event of great calmness._

 _I look back at the voice that was talking to me. I made out a dark silhouette similar in stature to me, along with a prominent glass monocle. He had dark purple hair and spoke with a tone I'd associate with a librarian's._

 _"Come on friend, there's plenty of fish in the sea. Just throw out your line and wait patiently. I'm sure you'll get another bite soon."_

 _Who...was this man? He speaks to me like I'm an old friend, but I know that can't be possible. I don't have any friends, maybe save for Rath. All the others have been chased away due to my negligence. Yet, for some reason, I feel like I've known him for a long time, even if I can't pinpoint his name. Against my better judgment, I go along with my gut familiarity and speak to him in a reciprocal manner._

 _I said, "I'm sorry, it's just that something is on my mind right now. It's about my father...I can't shake the possibility that he'll come back to threaten me or our village."_

 _I...where did that come from? I didn't think to say that. Actually, now that I think about it...I don't have any control at all here. It's like I'm a spectator within my own body, with some long begotten force swaying my spirit to words. I wasn't exactly sure what it was, but my dreamy state didn't allow me to press the issue any further. I focused on the conversation I was having with my friend, along with delegating attention to the fishing rod I held._

 _My friend pauses for a moment, and put some thought into my concerns._

 _"I understand, but I can reassure you that we're safe. Nergal has no idea where you are, and you've suitably covered your tracks in Sacae. He and everyone in that organization think you're gone, and I won't be surprised if that man has already made another morph to replace you in your role. If he has heartless as you say, then he has no incentive to come looking for you. Besides, should the day come that he returns...I will be more than ready to help you in repelling his evil. If nothing else than the assist my dearest friend."_

 _Dearest friend...I've never had one of those before. Not since...her..._

 _I shook my head, "Don't go saying things like that. You're a family man, and I have no one besides you and the village. Should the day come that Nergal returns...I want you to run away with the others and leave me to my fate. I'll be damned if I'm going to let your son grow up an orphan."_

 _The man somberly lowers his head, and we were surrounded by silence. I heard nothing but the gentle cradling of the water flowing through the underside of our canoe._

 _"Well...I suppose your right. The family does come first after all."_

 _I sigh and feel a brisk gush of wind brush against my back. The cool refreshing air compounded against the anxious beads of sweat back there, as if I was about to take on a task greater than myself. Like a man face to face with death, but I couldn't understand why. None of this made sense. Not this man, not me, or even where I was. The only thing that was clear to me, however, was the familiarity of the trees. I was in Illia, but the region was yet to be known._

 _I said, "I'll be leaving the village soon. I have to go settle some unfinished business with my father. I can't allow him and his unbridled evil to spread across this continent any further."_

 _My friend protested, "But Samuel, it is not your duty to do so. You are but one man, while Nergal controls an entire army. What can you expect to do against him, other than risking your own wellbeing for a just...but futile cause?"_

 _I shook my head, "I don't care if it's futile...or that I'm alone. If he continues his uncontested puppetry over this world, this world will meet its end. He's on a quest to gather power for power's sake...and no man can ever hope to change his mind. Resistance has to start somewhere, and I fully intend to start it."_

 _My friend frowns and looks away towards the distant, snow-capped mountains. He pondered about the year we spent together, and all the memories we shared._

 _He said, "Well...I suppose I can't change your mind. I've known you long enough. I'm just glad to have spent the time I did have with you. My only regret is, now I'm unsure who I'll discuss magic theory with."_

 _I chuckle, and pat the mage on the back._

 _"Hey, that doesn't mean I won't write. If I run into a [pegasus] knight in Bulgar, I'll make sure to send a letter along."_

 _He smiles._

 _"I'd like that. Just make sure to keep in touch. I know the children would feel sad if you vanished without a trace. I know how much you like to read stories to them in your free time..."_

 _Suddenly, I feel a tug from my rod. The force nearly me flings out of our boat, and it takes me all of my strength to stabilize myself and the rod._

 _My friend exclaimed, "Samuel! You have a fish...and it's a big one! Keep the rod steady old friend! Let me get the net...!"_

 ** _..._**

 _A large, tan fish with green scales rests on a bucket underneath our feet. It swam and splashed within its small new home, but even it had to recognize the futility of its own actions. It had nowhere to go, and there was no way I was going to let it out of my grasp again. My friend and I were beginning to make our way back home, and my sore muscles squealed as we slowly made the trek._

 _My friend said, "Huh, I'd never thought a fish would bite the same line twice. You must a lucky man Samuel. Hopefully, this serves as a good omen for your journey."_

 _A good omen indeed..._

* * *

 **The following morning...**

Every morning should start with a good, nutritious breakfast. Regrettably, I hadn't been able to implement that important rule in my life lately, a trait I shared with my college years. As of late, I've been surviving through my mornings with an empty stomach, but Rath's addition to my party has changed that. Gone were the days with subsistence by way of low-calorie diets; in their place was the satiating aroma of salted bacon, scrambled eggs, and buttered toast. Okay, maybe not the last part, but the former two were definitely on the menu today.

The day was young, and my companion was away hunting while I stayed at our camp making breakfast. The past few days had been like this; Rath was the only capable of wielding a bow, so I decided to regulate myself to a supporting role. He'd come back after an hour or so with a small rabbit or even an elk in his possession, and we'd prepare the animal for a meal later that afternoon. Until then, I'd make breakfast for everyone until he returns, with no one but Laniakea keeping me company.

Though, I have to admit I'm using that "company" term loosely. Laniakea hadn't spoken to me at all since I found her in the direwolf den, and often went hours in silence with her staring off into space. I associated this behavior with her obvious distrust in me...which was understandable. Thus far, she's only known me for who Azazel was, as the demon that ended the life of her recent guardian, Maria. It wasn't the most ideal foundation to build a relationship out of...but I'll have to work with what I've got. Even...if the bleeding face of Maria continues to haunt me daily.

I sigh and flip a strip of bacon on my iron skillet. The guilt I had in Maria's death, along with many other innocents, did not sit well with me. Their memory serves as a constant reminder for what my weakness can allow to wrought onto the world, and I know I can never allow it to happen again. Azazel must never be allowed to touch the people of this world, at all costs if need be...

"Um...is breakfast almost ready? I'm...hungry."

The timid, petite voice of Laniakea catches me off guard. I had gone days without hearing it, and I had nearly reached the point that I forgot what it sounded like. I looked at the blanketed six-year-old with surprised eyes, and she returns the gesture with an equal and opposite expression.

I said, "Uh...yeah. The bacon's got a couple of minutes left, but if you wait for a few more you can have some of the eggs I'm boiling over here. I'm even preparing some baked potatoes if you'll have them."

The eggs were acquired from a nearby farming family we had stopped at the previous night. As far fetched as that may sound, some isolated pockets of humanity do exist out here near the Sacae-Illia border. They're an interesting bunch, with a unique culture, religion, and customs separate from both Illia and Sacae. They appear to originate from an ethnic group that used to migrate throughout the continent in a time not too long ago, and have decided to settle down in a part of Elibe free from the dominant and oppressive grasps of the nearby major nations. Interestingly, they're the only culture here in Elibe that grows potatoes...and crop not native to this continent. I found this out when their family gave us a stew consisting of the nutritious spud, and when asked they did not hesitate to give me a few potatoes to use as I see fit. Surely whatever culture they follow must emphasize the qualities of a good host, and it was a detail I appreciated very much.

Laniakea hesitates but ultimately agreed to her temptations.

"S-Sure. Um...can I ask for a favor?"

I smile and attempt to put on the most serene face I could muster. This was so far the most contact I've had with Lumina's daughter in...forever. I am _not_ about to blow this opportunity.

I replied, "Of course, what can I do for you?"

Lani shoots a glance towards the eggs I was boiling in a pan over a wood-burning campfire. The eggs vibrated slightly within the clear, bubbling water.

She asked, "Can...can you peel off the white stuff from the egg? I only like to eat the yellow on the inside...i-if that's okay with you. My mom used to always do that for me."

She was referring to the outer membrane of the egg. Admittingly, it was hard to not blush from this picky eater's request. It sounded like something she'd definitely ask for her age, and what was I to do but honor her wish?

I said, "Of course. I'll make sure to do that. Just sit tight. You don't have to worry about a thing."

Laniakea pauses just as I say that. She stares at me with a cold, yet somber gaze. Her white, curly hair flows effortlessly in the wind as a cold front made its rounds to our location. Her eyes gradually begin to water, though not by fault of the smoky campfire. They were pained tears...tears wrought by a stolen childhood. I made an attempt to console her, but even I knew I had no place in doing so.

"Hey, are you okay? Was it...something I said?"

The little girl struggles to wipe away her tears, and I take the opportunity to hand her a clean handkerchief. She reluctantly accepts it and cleans her freckled face. She regrettably made a mess out of it, and I realize that I won't be getting my possession back.

She said, "I-I'm sorry. I'll clean this after I'm done..."

The handkerchief was a gift from Florina; I had received it when she made a vain attempt to clean up a wound I had sustained after a terrifying fall. It was bad luck among Illians to share a garment tainted with another's blood, though Lani and I were not held to the same standards.

I shook my head, "Don't worry about it. You can have it. I have another one in my pack."

"Thank you..."

I didn't want to press the issue any further, but I was curious about why Lani was suddenly stricken by a spell of sorrow. They say curiosity killed the cat, but mine was too much to overcome.

I politely asked, "I'm sorry...but do mind telling me what made you so sad? You don't have to tell me if you don't want to..."

As expected, the little girl hesitated. She looks deep in my heterochromic eyes, I knew she was taking the moment to peer into my soul. Her eyes glow a hint of yellow, then blue. It...she was detecting Azazel's influence within me, and I realize any attempt to connect with her would be in vain. The gesture felt invasive...but even I had to understand it was justified.

After a short while, her eyes stop glowing and return to their normal dragonic red. Whatever spell she was using had subsided, and a familiar coldness returned to her gaze. She didn't look so innocent anymore.

I asked, "Erm...what was that?"

Laniakea ignored my request, and backs away slowly.

"I...It's nothing. I-I think I'll eat breakfast alone..."

Although I wouldn't completely realize what she had done until later that night, Laniakea had just demonstrated an incredibly rare ability unknown to many in this world. My initial assessment of her peering into my soul turned out to be somewhat true, and I knew that for as long as this demon resided within me, Laniakea was never going to trust me. No matter what I did, her perception of me was never going to change. Not even if I told her that her care was a mission entrusted to me by her mother.

Thus, there was only one thing to do. I needed to kill this demon. Only then could I expect to form a relationship for the future...

* * *

 **Later that night...**

The full moon shines bright tonight. It's frost-like exterior gave off a blue glow reminiscent of the same moon I shared with Lumina on the day I made my promise to her. A lot of time had passed since then, and now I lay on an icy patch of grass sketching the very same stars. This was a nice change of pace from the constant traveling I'd been going through the past few months, and I treasured my free time greatly.

 _Alright, if that's the constellation representing the little knight Roland, then this should be the tip of his sword. After this, I'll work on the Pegasus a short distance away from him. I'm nowhere near finished with this star map, but this has turned out to be quite the project!_

I hear the distant, crunching footsteps of ice. I lift my head to see the only other adult in our party, Rath. He was covered head to toe in buffalo skin, along with a thick fleece jacket. His right sleeve was still stained with blood from that morning's hunt, though it didn't seem to bother him much. He was used to going days without cleaning his clothes, but it was clear he wasn't here to discuss laundering duties. The expression on his face suggested he had the desire to speak about something of great importance.

He said, "Samuel, I'd like to speak to you about the girl. Do you have a moment?"

I fold up my star map and secure it in my pocket. I shifted my gaze towards Laniakea, who to my relief was peacefully slumbering away by the campfire. Oblivious to her surroundings, she was drooling from her lips just as her mother did in Carazan. I couldn't help but smile at the sight, and there was no doubt in my mind that she was the daughter of Lumina.

Confident that we would have no eavesdroppers, I nod my head in approval.

"Sure, speak your mind."

Rath takes a seat by me on the frozen earth. His face was barely visible under the moonlight, but his green hair reassured me that he was nearby.

He said, "What...do you plan on doing with her? I know that you told me that you've taken on the task of caring for her in her mother's stead, but to be completely honest I'm not sure if you're up to the task."

If I didn't know any better, I would have interpreted that as an insult. However, I understood that Rath was the type of person to speak his mind bluntly, with no filters. Lyndis had told me that much anyhow...

I replied, "How so?"

Rath clears his throat.

"Well, to begin with, it's quite obvious to me that the little girl doesn't trust you. I'm not sure if it's because of the demon within you, or of some other cause. However, any paternal relationship is reliant on a degree of trust between the parent and the child. So far, your relationship with her has not achieved that trust. Right now you're just stringing this girl wherever you go, with the expectation she'd grow on you. I don't see this as much of a recipe for success, tactician."

Rath has a point. So far, I hadn't really thought of much of a plan of action regarding Laniakea. My hope was that I'd figure that out once I managed to take care of my demon problem, but now that I speak those words into my mind I realize how negligent I've already become. Was I really prepared to look over the life of this small child, especially one of a supernatural species? Was it even in my means to? With my current condition? Even if I had access to this planet's best doctors, could I ever expect to reach a state where I could support Laniakea, much less myself? The answer was equally as terrifying as it was uncertain.

I don't know.

Suddenly, my face winces slightly. A sting of pain flared from within my bludgeoned limb, which had been bothering me more as of late. My bad ankle continued to ache with pain, with it worsening with every additional mile I took on. I felt tired, and I wished I had taken to my bed earlier tonight. I was only 19 years of age, but I already felt like an old man.

I cough up a short pint of blood and stain the nearby snow a familiar shade of crimson. Rath's eyes widen with shock, which was itself surprising given the cool attitude the solitary nomad usually upheld.

He exclaimed, "By the gods...Samuel! Are you alright?!"

After a short fit, I stop coughing and casually wipe away the blood from my mouth.

"I'm fine. Just a little internal bleeding...that's all. I'll be fine."

Rath looks at me skeptically.

"Bullshit. You might just be the most beat-up human being I've ever seen. How many untreated wounds do you have?"

I shrugged my shoulders, "Technically all of my wounds have been healed to some degree. They must've not done a good job though, and I think the healing magic is beginning to fall apart. The pain has been increasing by the day as well, and I think I'm nearing the point where even the Theriac might not even cut it."

"Samuel..."

He sighs and slowly shakes his head.

"You're worse than I thought. You've...lost everything. Your friends, lover, quality of life. The only thing that's left is your sanity."

I cracked an awkward smile.

"I actually lost that for a while too..."

Rath places his hand on my shoulder.

"Are...you okay?"

I reassure him, "Better than I used to be anyway. I was wondering the wilderness for little under three weeks when I finally snapped out of it. Or was it two? Anyway, I've done some soul searching and I think I'm finally ready to continue on with the next step of my life."

He gives me a puzzled expression.

"And what is that?"

I replied, "The step where I free myself from Azazel's influence. I suspect that the answer lies within Illia, and once I find it I won't hesitate to use it. Whatever it is."

I wasn't going to tell him I had secretly been receiving dreams suggesting this was the case. There was no way I was going to let him know this fact, otherwise, he'd really think I was crazy.

Rath said, "I'm not sure if I can believe that. You're giving me a lot of arbitrary information, but no specifics. Still, I suspect you know what you're doing. However, promise one thing tactician..."

He shoots a glance over at Laniakea, and then at me. She was still sound asleep.

He continued, "Promise me that if you find yourself in the situation where you can't take care of her...you'll arrange for her to be with someone who can. A child living without any support is...an unsettling childhood..."

He breaks eye contact and looks towards the ground.

"I should know..."

There was noticeable pain in his voice, which was unusual. Rath has always been a rather cold, unfeeling person. Had I not known any better, I would have suspected that he was secretly a morph sent to spy on us from Nergal, but his green hair quickly debunked that theory. This whole conversation was the first time he'd ever expressed some sort of emotion towards me, so I knew that the nomad held this issue in high regard. A product of some unspoken, distant trauma.

I said, "You don't have to worry about that. I've already promised her mother that I'll look after her best interests. If it gets to the point that I can't take care of her, I'll find someone who can..."

He shook his head, "That's not good enough, I need something more than that. I need...you to make the same promise to me. I'm not sure if you're aware of this, but a promise made between Sacaens is unbreakable."

My brow raised with curiousity.

I replied, "Erm, last time I checked I'm not a Sacaen. In fact, I don't think I have a nationality."

Rath disagreed, "That's where you're wrong. If I'm not mistaken, you and Lady Lyn made a contract of companionship back when you first met..."

 _"We'll be better working together, I know it. You'll be my master strategist, and I'll be your peerless warrior!"_

I take a step back.

"I had no idea...how did you know about that?!"

Rath said, "Oh, Lyn just mentioned it to me during some small talk. I had assumed you knew about it already. Anyway, the point I'm trying to make clear is that by accepting this contract, Lyn effectively invited you to her tribe...being the Lorca. You accepted, and since you are Lorcan, you are Sacaen...and in turn bound to our laws as well."

 _Why am I only finding out about this now?_

 _But...that makes a lot of sense. On why Lyn stuck with me even after it came out I was a morph. After she found out Azazel killed her parents...and why she continued supporting me until she reached her breaking point. She only broke contact with me after I allowed Azazel to nearly kill her...and it must've broken her heart when she did. I breached her trust, and now I'm facing the consequences._

 _If only I knew...maybe I wouldn't have taken our relationship for granted..._

Rath extends his hand forward. I look at it blankly, as if I had forgotten the purpose of a handshake.

He said, "Do I have your word tactician?"

Without thinking, I extend my hand towards his and accepted.

"Without a shadow of a doubt. If the time comes, I will ensure Laniakea is looked after by a trustworthy soul...even if he or she isn't me. I hope that by saying this, I can put your mind at ease..."

* * *

 **The next day...**

The white water crashes against the enormous, gray rocks. Clumped up pockets of ice bump into each other in the large white river, which was deeper beyond comprehension. My feet tremble slightly as I look down the long chasm that nested this natural behemoth within its grasp, and I look away towards the inviting sky. A long-forgotten sun peeks through a wall of dark clouds, with its rare warmth feeling like a refreshing ray of hope. Hope for a better future.

We were on the Sacaen side of the Gadean Gorge, a ridiculously large, nearly 1-mile wide indention of earth at the end of the Great Divide. The gorge formed the border between Sacae and Illia, with no link existing between the two nations save for a small, rickety wooden bridge. The bridge itself was no feat of engineering, and it had no supports keeping it standing save for the decaying ropes tensioned at its sides.

The bridge made me sick to my stomach. Rath had told me that he suspected the structure was between 100 to 300 years of age, with no maintenance under its belt between that span. Although there were other passes through the Gorge further to the east and west, walking any further on this inhospitable terrain would likely spell the end for my ailing ankle and knees. Though, at this point there was no telling how much irrecoverable damage I've already inflicted upon myself.

I gulp when I see the bridge effortlessly sway with the light wind. I swore that I saw a loose panel of wood fall off from the breeze, but it may have just been my imagination.

Yeah...it's probably for the best that I think that's the case...

Rath pauses and rubs his clean-shaven chin. He takes a deep breath and sighed.

"Well, it looks like this is where our journey together ends..."

The reason why wasn't difficult to find out. The bridge was very unstable, but I surmised that it could at the very least support a man along with a small child. If put under an actual stress test, I predicted the bridge would fail if it were subjected to approximately 500 pound-force. Rath's horse easily cleared that mark, and I knew the Sacaen nomad wasn't about to abandon him here in this frigid wasteland.

Although I understood, I still felt a wave of sadness wash over my heart. Rath had been the single most important pillar of support I've had thus far in this journey. If it weren't for him, I'd likely have frozen or starved to death here in the tundra. Had Rath not shown me the location of the direwolf den, Laniakea wouldn't be here with me either. I had so much to be thankful for thanks to my former enemy...but as of yet, I had nothing to show for it.

I said, "Rath...I don't know how I can thank you..."

He shakes his head, "Tactician, we've already talked about this. My guardianship over you and the little girl was nothing more than honoring a past debt. No thank you is needed...but if you feel that you must do anything...then remember what we discussed a few nights ago..."

The promise I made to Rath. I'll make sure to keep it, even if it conflicted with my heart at some point in the future. I knew that Rath only had our best interests in mind, so I understood to honor it just as he did to his perceived debt.

I said, "I'll...alright."

The green nomad shoots a final glance towards Laniakea. She was worryingly looking at the frozen fiber that secured the bridge to the ground, and it was clear that fear kept her feet still. The uncertainty in her heart felt familiar to his solitary soul, and I wondered if he saw a little bit of himself within the white-haired manakete.

Keeping silent, he turned towards me and removed a large sack from the back of his horse. He hands it to me.

"Here, this is the rest of the food I have. It should last for a couple of weeks. I expect that you'll reach your destination by then."

My eyes nearly bulge from their sockets. I spied the assortment of biscuits, jerky, and other foodstuffs he had in his possession and wondered how on earth Rath was going to keep himself fed.

"Erm, Rath this is quite generous but I have to ask...this appears to be everything you have. How are you going to eat?"

He shakes his head, "Don't worry about it. I have the means right here. You on the other hand...don't."

He motions towards the bow he had slung over his shoulder. Unlike him, my disability meant I could only rely on traps to hunt...which admittedly could only take me so far. Especially on this inhospitable, rocky terrain that sparingly allowed life within its lands.

"Thank you..."

Rath sighed. He points towards the bridge, and then towards the setting sun above.

He said, "Enough talk. If we continue with your thank you's I doubt you'll have any daylight left to travel. Take the girl and leave. There will be no more discussion."

"Th-"

I stop myself mid-sentence and lowered my body for a brief, respectful bow. This was a universal show of gratitude amongst every culture here in Elibe (save for indigenous Missurians). Rath disembarked from his mount and reciprocated the gesture. We shared our last few words.

He said, "I now consider my debt paid. Farewell, humble tactician."

I replied in earnest, "As do I. May you accomplish your mission just as will do with my own."

Then, Rath got on his horse and disappeared into the mountains. I couldn't help but smile at my former enemy turned friend. He had done so much for me, and although he said it was to satisfy a debt, I felt like he had given me much more than the wound in my stomach called for. I'd have to pay him back someday, but that will be a story for another time...

I feel a light force tug at the seam of my pants. It was from Laniakea, and her red eyes continued to stare at the bridge.

She asked, "Are...Are we going to cross that?"

I replied, "I'm afraid so. But don't worry. On the other side, there won't be any bandits or any bad people that'll threaten you ever again. It's a safe place...for both of us."

She tightens her grip on my pant's fabric. She spoke with a worried tone.

"Are...you sure. No more bad people?"

I nodded my head, "Yeah. If you're scared about the bridge...I'll protect you. Just as your mother protected me. I won't let anyone or anything harm you. Please, I need your trust for this."

Laniakea hesitates, but then eases her hand over to mine. It seemed for this scenario, at least this once, her fear for the bridge surpassed her fear towards me.

She said, "Okay...I suppose I'll trust you this once..."

The crossing across the bridge was one filled with anxiety and a myriad of flare-ups involving my wounds. Blood was spilled, and tears were shed. However, by the end of it all, I had accomplished my only task...

Laniakea and I stepped foot on Illia. I stood gasping for breath while trying to keep weight off of my bad ankle. Laniakea looks on towards the sky, and notices the sun clearly shining through the gray clouds. For the first time in a long time, she smiled as the warmth tickled her skin.

One final thought crosses her mind, something she suspected she'd never say to herself. She was free. She was alive. But most of all, she was safe.

* * *

 **...?**

The time is midnight, and a solitary duo of men look out towards the lone flame below them. There were a black-haired man and a white-haired girl sleeping in the camp, with them just having crossed the river earlier that day. One of the men on the cliff wore a thick red robe and had scars all over his face. The other was an axeman with pale skin, with his golden eyes glittering under the moonlight.

The red-robed man digs into his pocket and gives the axeman a note. In it was a series of orders, although the content was unknown. The axeman drops his bloodstained ax onto the ground and reads the note. Then, he nods his head and bids his leave.

The red-robed man looks at the camp again, then smiles. His red-eyes ooze with mischief, and then with satisfaction.

Everything, was going according to plan...


	40. Home

**Chapter 36: Home**

 **By SodiumChloride12, derived from Fire Emblem, owned by Nintendo.**

 **A/N: Wow, this chapter's pretty long. I hope y'all are okay with that because next week's chapter is even longer. There's just so much write...and honestly I feel like I couldn't have made them any shorter. So far I haven't felt any writer's fatigue, which is good. I've also managed to write in despite the midterms I've had. Everything is coming out pretty well, in my opinion anyway. If y'all disagree with me feel free to drop a review, otherwise any feedback is well appreciated.**

 **Next week's chapter is going to have an addendum. There's some stuff I'd like to drop off my chest...so that should be interesting.**

 **I hope you guys enjoy my work! After this arc ends, the last four chapters will be about Sam's life in Illia, and it will focus on his relationship with Laniakea along with two other people I have in mind. A battered soldier will finally begin his healing...although it won't be easy.**

 **N: Samuel continues to travel in pain. He keeps his head high with his new companion in tow, but for how long? How much can his body take until it finally breaks down?**

* * *

I'm so exhausted. Physically and mentally. My body feels like it's on the verge of breaking down on me, while my mind is still shaken from my past experiences. The trauma I sustained in Carazan still haunts me...while the wound the Sword Demon delivered to my stomach has begun to open up again. Every joint in my body screams in agony with each continued step...but I continue forward nonetheless.

In all honesty...I should have no place in taking care of a child...especially one that is not of my own blood. I'm not even at a state where I could provide for her...much less myself. When the day comes that I find medical treatment...one question stains my mind. Are...my wounds even treatable?

Despite my body telling me to give up...I have to stay steadfast. Even if I can't take care of this child, I need to at the very least secure her safety. I need to find someone who has the heart and capabilities that Lumina had in caring for her own child, someone whose body isn't polluted with the sin I've allowed to infect it. Someone with a heart of gold...

However, before I do all that, before I even seek treatment...I have to destroy this demon that will soon break his chains. I can not afford to give this monster another opportunity to bring harm to this world...and especially not Laniakea. I was shortsighted then to allow him to harm this child...but I'll be damned if I'll let it happen again. On my life...I will triumph over this evil.

But that bears the question...how will I go about that? I don't even know where to start...but I know there's somebody in Illia that may know. If memory serves...when the soul of Azazel was first sealed...my intuition led me to head up north to the land of pegasi and ice. Why would I think to go up there? I don't know. But, I'm certain the answers to this mystery lie up here.

I don't have much time left. It's nearing the end of the month, and Sothis is beginning to doze off in my mind. I don't want to imagine how exhausted she is in having to imprison an evil power like Azazel, but if it was taxing for me then it's most certainly the same for her.

I only have a little over a week left. Among these days will be a holiday I celebrated in my old life; Christmas. As much as I'd like to shower Laniakea with gifts...such a reality is out of my reach. Our relationship hasn't developed to that point, nor do I have to capabilities to do so. Thus, I'll likely have to go through that day in silent anguish...with nothing but the memories of years past to keep me company.

Still...now is no time to fall into despair. I have to complete my mission...

No matter what it takes.

* * *

The day is December 21st, year 981. The thick snow still covered the land like a thick, impenetrable blanket. The sky was cloudy and the air was windy, and I wondered if it would snow again soon. Fresh mountain air rejuvenated my spirits, but the rocky ground had rubbed my leather soles bare. The tough mountain pass had been tough to tread through in this weather, but I had no concern for my own comfort. Rather, my mind was more focused on the small child I was escorting, who did not wear any shoes. Laniakea was wearing the thick jacket I had procured for her at the village earlier, though she hadn't much else. Unfortunately, I had not been able to procure moccasins for her cold feet...which were incredibly frostbitten. So, with no other option available, I decided to take it upon myself to carry her myself. The small child protested that she did not want to be carried...but I didn't take no for an answer. It was clear how much pain she was in, and I wanted to alleviate even a little of it.

Thus, this was how we traveled for the past few weeks. I'd carry her on my back for a few miles, then we'd stake camp with a fire and eat. I'd hunt what I could with traps...while Laniakea would warm up her feet. Although I suspected she'd take the opportunity to escape again...she never did. Perhaps it was because of her frostbitten feet...or maybe it was because she knew I'd just go look for her again. Or maybe...she was beginning to trust me...if only a little. The latter was an optimistic guess.

For the most part, we traveled through the countryside in silence. The rare exception was when I'd cook food for her, at which point I'd be rewarded with a "Thank you". This was a show of good manners, likely a trait learned from her mother. Occasionally, our relationship showed a little bit of progress. She began helping me with cooking our food and even offered to help chop up wood. A week into our journey...after a relatively heavy dinner, Laniakea and I shared a rare conversation.

She asked, "Samuel...what do you plan on doing with me?"

The fire crackled in the background. I place down my bowl of half-eaten stew and look at the young girl with somber eyes. Her expression was plain and emotionless, but even then her red eyes still radiated like her mother. For a moment, I tried to channel that familiarity into something heartfelt; the product of a close relationship in my past.

I said, "I promised your mom that I'll keep you safe. To what ends I'll go to accomplish that...I'm not sure yet. But rest assured, I have nothing but your best interests at heart."

I leaned back on the boulder that was serving as my seat. Looking at the white-haired adolescent, I noticed she had raised a skeptical eyebrow.

I continued, "I know that you don't entirely trust me because of the evil that inhabits my body. I probably won't entirely earn it unless I get rid of it. But...that's why I've chosen to come to Illia. I believe the solution lies somewhere in this country...and once I find it...I'll destroy this evil spirit so it can never harm anyone again."

I ball up my fist, "I can't do anything until I do this. However, no matter what happens...I'll keep you safe. At the cost of my life if necessary. It's what I promised to your mother...and I fully intend to keep that."

Laniakea half-heartedly nodded, but I knew that I had failed. Despite the emotion I tried to throw behind my message...my words had fallen flat. It would take much more than empty promises to change the mindset of Laniakea. Only actions would suffice. Her rigid skepticism was likely the result of her separation from her mother. Lumina has promised that they'd be together forever...which given the current situation did not happen. After that perceived initial breach of trust, she was forcibly sent around by anybody that "owned" her, and it wouldn't be far fetched to assume they'd thrown around a few lies here and there to secure her obedience. With everything that had happened to her...I wouldn't be surprised if she had developed an utter distrust towards all adults.

Learning that, one thing still doesn't make sense. Earlier at the camp, Lani had thrown her confidence behind Maria, a commoner with a sweet personality. Despite everything that had happened in her past, she allowed Maria to act as her de facto guardian. Recalling from my past memories of her, I can see that Maria had a good heart. But is simply possessing a good heart enough for her? I'm not sure. But...does that mean I don't have a good heart? Has my soul been so tainted with sin that my compatibility with the young girl is no longer a possibility? Or rather, has Azazel's simple presence masked any good that laid within me? It's also possible that it could be a mixture of the two. My mind is filled with uncertainty...but I'm going to have to get to the bottom of this mystery if I'm ever going to get on Laniakea's good side.

Half of my solution lays within the confines of Illia's borders. Despite that knowledge, the task of retrieving it was a daunting one. The nation was so large, with its terrain so uneven and mountainous. The cold didn't make walking any easier either. However, even though it may appear that I'd be damned to wandering through this frigid nation forever...fate...

Had other plans.

* * *

It was now December 26th, exactly five days from my previous entry. Things were still more or less the same, except that now there was a development. After weeks upon weeks of traveling, Laniakea and I have finally reached civilization.

There was a light flurry in the air. Small crystals of ice fall on my skin, with the cold sensation sending everything numb. My thick winter coat was wrapped securely on my body, and Laniakea was sleeping soundly on my back. Despite my injuries, I had grown accustomed to the added pressure on my body, and the little girl felt as light as a feather. Well, maybe not. Perhaps it was just the theriac making things just a bit easier.

I look out towards the scene in front of me. Up the gravel road that rested on my feet, I could see a conglomerate of buildings resting behind a stone wall. There were houses, a blacksmith, a school, and even a church...all of which had roofed coated in thick snow.

Nobody guarded the entrance to the village...and for a moment I wondered if the settlement was deserted. I walked towards it to validate my suspicions, and my answer came in the form of a walking housewife carrying bear pelts on her back. She had a plain-looking demeanor to her, which was fine by me.

 _Nice, finally some people._

The woman takes one good look at me, and then at Laniakea. Her eyes widen with shock, and her pelts fall onto the floor with a thud.

"In the name of Saint Elimine! Mister! Are you two okay?"

I question the young lady's reaction, but soon enough I realize why. My traumatized hand was still visible for all to see, even if it was bandaged. My unkempt hair had icicles hanging off their tips, and my jacket was permeated with holes. The scars I had suffered in my past misadventures were still there. To top it all off, Laniakea's frostbitten feet were a horror to look at. Before I could say a word, a severe pain ruptures from my abdomen. Then another, similar pain erupted from what the area that used to belong to my right hand. One by one, every untreated injury I had sustained in my past flared up like dozens of miniature explosions ripping through my body. I attempt to resist the temptation to fall onto my knees, but no amount of will could hope to overcome this wave of extreme pain.

I hit the floor and cough up a pint of blood. Everything began to look hazy, but I somehow made out the silhouette of the woman rushing over to my side.

My last thoughts before I passed out were about how, after months of stress impacting my body, my body had finally reached its limit. It appeared, that in at least that respect, the mortality of man was a concept I had at last grown to terms with.

* * *

 **...?**

Dreaming is a weird sensation. It's like you're in a realm between some imagined void...and reality itself. You can feel no pain...but still feel the mortal urge to avoid it. Emotions like fear and sorrow can still strike an individual's psyche, but dreams can not be a direct source of those feelings. Rather, bad dreams and nightmares are the product of our past despair...and should be regarded as such. Dreams can not deliver any pain that wasn't already there, much like lime juice stinging a fresh wound.

My mind had plenty of ammunition for nightmares, but oddly enough I experienced none. However, on the flip side, the opposite was also true. I received no pleasant experiences from past memories, probably because I didn't have many to speak of. A solid 50% of my "happy" memories were derived from my time with Lyn, a girl I had allowed myself to anger with my negligence. If I had never let Azazel take control of my body...I would have never attacked Lyn, and perhaps I'd still be at Castle Caelin with her. Maybe I would have developed more happy memories there...but now such a possibility is gone forever. My relationship with Lyn is over; I can't see a reality where she'd find it in her heart to love me again. I'm damned to a life of solitude, with no one but an uncooperative child, and a slowy silenced goddess keeping me company.

Sothis. Her voice has been growing fainter and fainter by the day, and I fear the day will come that I'll no longer be able to hear it. What I had at one point considered brash and conceited, I now saw as a lone ray of light surrounded by choking darkness. I see Sothis as a friend now, and I am certain she sees me the same way. I have to confirm my stance through words...but lately, her determination in holding back Azazel has been draining her of her strength. I haven't spoken to her in over a week...but I hope she'll return to me one last time so I can express to her how much I appreciate her. How much her continued presence in my life means to me...

I can't stay in this state very much longer. I'm living on borrowed time, and the end of the month is drawing near. Once Sothis' protection falls, I know I'll be subject to a renewed vigor from the demon king Azazel. He'll stop at nothing to ensure his victory, but I'll just have to fight that much harder...

I musn't do this for anyone else but myself. The lone exception to that might be Laniakea, but ultimately I have to focus on myself. For far too long I've strung my happiness and worth onto other people...while my own value had been undermined the process. I need to be comfortable with who I am...and become my own motivation for greatness.

But in order to do that...I need to leave this dream state. I need to push past the limit my manufactured body had set for me...and I must do it quickly. Nobody is around to help me. Not Sothis, not some other divine being...and most definitely not my "peerless warrior..."

...

I need to stop letting my mind wander towards her. I need to relax, and rely on myself. Only myself. I can do this...I must...

I will.

* * *

My consciousness returned to the realm of reality...and as usual, I was rewarded with a familiar sting of pain. My body was completely paralyzed by the incarcerating sensation, and after spending a few minutes trying to get myself to move, I gave up. Instead, I took some time to observe my surroundings...which was new and foreign.

I was in what appeared to be a rustic log cabin. The dwelling was quaint and simple...but held a certain degree of homeliness as well. The bed I was laying in had thick, warm blankets of questionable origin; like of wolf or bear fur. There was a drawer, bedside table, and even a mirror; the latter being a luxury usually kept among the nobility. In addition to that, the room was connected to a nearby bathroom...not an outhouse. A lone glass window brought in much-needed sunlight, and a nearby used candle suggested I had been unconscious for a while. The torn rags I had been wearing were replaced with a clean, white tunic, along with other respective garments.

I look out the window and stroke my hairy chin. Oddly enough, this room felt familiar. There was a crack on the top right corner of the mirror, a feature I was able to recognize. The faded brown paint on the walls was also something I noted, along with a golden locket hanging off a nearby doorknob. The most striking detail was the sight just outside the window, which was a huge mountain coated with a blinding sheet of white. I turn away after a short moment as to not irritate my eyes and remember that white snow did an excellent job in reflecting sunlight.

With every passing second in the silent room, I became more and more convinced that I had been here before. My familiarity with the area was too much of a coincidence for that not to be true. If memory serves, I believe I'd lived through a dream at this very place...

Before I could complete that thought, however, I hear a noise from the creaky door directly in front of my bed. The door slowly opens, and I lock contact with a familiar pair of red eyes. Behind those red eyes was a respective lock of curly white hair, and it didn't take long for me to realize who those eyes belonged to.

I'm unsure what to do. Lani continued to stare at me through her perceived hiding place. Her body language suggests she thought that I was unaware of her presence, although that was very obviously not the case. She briefly stared at my leg cast, and then at my bludgeoned hand. All the while, I was speechless.

Breaking the silence, I said, "Hey...are you doing okay?"

Quickly, the little girl closes the door shut. She doesn't say a word, and the room is shrouded with silence once more. I frowned and bite my lip. I'd be lying to myself if I didn't say her action didn't hurt me, even if only a little.

I sigh and look at my battered body. Everything hurts, but it was well within my endurance. My main concern was towards my casted leg, which was in no walking condition. Within the thick bandages was a swollen monstrosity of human matter...or whatever Nergal put inside us morphs.

I groaned. How am I going to walk around with this?

Knock! Knock!

I hear a knock from the door. I set aside my grievances for the moment and focus on the human being behind that door. He/she was likely the owner of this dwelling, and it was rude for me to not afford to them the same amount of attention they had given to me.

"Come in!"

The door opens, and a man in dark purple clothing entered the room. He was of average stature, no more than 5"8'. He had vibrant, indigo hair and eyes, along with a single monocle over his right pupil. His small build suggested he was not a laborious man...but I surmised he may have scholarly pursuits. His age was somewhere around his early twenties...a couple of years senior to myself. On his arms was a bundle of warm towels and bandages, and he spoke with a calculated, yet compassionate tone.

"Hello. It pleases me to see that you're awake. Your companion had done a fantastic job of watching over you. She's been waiting outside your door the instant she regained the capabilities to do so."

 _Wait...Lani's been watching over me all this time?_

He smiles. Much like the familiar enviroment, the sight brought upon vague memories of a pleasant past. I felt like I had been subject to this gesture many times before. Scrambling for words, I asked him one beating question.

"Have...we met before?"

The man briefly pauses and slightly tilted his head. It was like I had just delivered a badly executed joke.

"Of course, silly. I'm your best friend, Canas. You left last summer to settle some business with Nergal...but you never came back. However, now that you've returned, the village can rejoice."

 _What?!_

His next few words erased any doubt I had left of the situation.

"We're glad you're back, Samuel. Welcome home."

* * *

 **Nearby...**

Laniakea sits on a sofa chair anxiously. The leather exterior was comfortable against her soft skin, and the thick blanket she covered herself in warded away any of the cold that leaked in from the walls. She was in the dwelling's living room and had been only recently. Looking around, she observed the simple furnishings and decorations that made up this part of her patron's little home. The lone sofa she was sitting on was flanked with two rocking chairs, along with a candle lamp sitting idly unlit. The ceiling was bare save for a long hook serving as a crude coat hanger, and the floor was composed of polished pine wood. All in all, this house was nicer than any other home she had ever been in, but that didn't mean she felt comfortable.

She was surrounded by strangers. She had woken up here after a brief nap on the back of one of those aftermentioned people, a person she only afforded a minuscule amount of trust. To her knowledge, that person was named "Samuel", and he had brought her here to accomplish some purpose. He claims that it's for her own protection, and although a part of her wants to believe him, his sinful soul pushed her away from that conclusion. She had been taught to be skeptical of those with evil dwelling within them, a lesson she learned amongst her many years in chains. Such people only ever brought harm to her, and she understood Samuel held that potential as well.

Even then, she couldn't but feel a little attached to him. It was a bad habit, but she had always felt connected to people that went out of their way to help her. Sure, it usually resulted in her getting exploited or hurt in some way, shape or form; but she couldn't help herself. Perhaps her adolescent innocence made her jump towards the first person that could fill the void left by her mother. Or maybe she was looking for an escape in her spiraling hellscape of reality. Either way, she felt a connection with the injured robed man down the hallway, even if she didn't completely trust him.

As for the other four people in the building, she didn't know how to feel about them. The first was an elderly woman with an atrocious looking wart on her nose. She wore dark clothing, and her odor suggested she often went weeks without bathing. By way of her magical eyes, Lani surmised she was likely a Druid; a user of dark magics. She carried herself with a sense of arrogance, along with a veil of sinister aura. She would often disappear for hours at a time, only to reappear once more for nourishment or to complain to the other three inhabitants. Out of all four, Lani found her the most unpleasing and made it a habit to avoid her at all costs.

The second was another Druid, likely the former's son. He was a young man in his early twenties, and although he used dark magic, the same shroud of darkness that surrounded his mother was not shared by him. His heart was light and fair, which was surprising considering the magic he wielded. He also wore dark clothing like his mother, however, luckily for Lani he seemed to shower daily. He had shown Laniakea nothing but kindness in their brief time together, and the little girl felt at ease around him. Between the three occupants of the household, Lani placed him in the middle of the pack in terms of trustworthiness.

Consequently, the third occupant was an anima user, a young woman that was likely Canas' wife. She was soft-spoken but expressed a hidden confidence that uplifted the spirits of all those around her. Judging by her accent, she's likely a native of Etruria, a nation Laniakea had been in only once before. Her relationship with Canas was at times platonic...while at other times romantic. Just like her husband, she was rather amicable to Laniakea and even pushed for her son to play with her once she had recovered her strength.

Lastly, her son was...an interesting character. He was quirky, intelligent, but had an abrasive side to his personality. Due to the age difference, Lani felt quite awkward while interacting with the child, and after about half an hour of contact, the two got bored and went their separate ways. The child spent his time trying to talk with his mother...or even trying to get away from his grandmother. His relationship with the elderly woman was clearly strained, more so from the former's incompatibility with small children. More reason for Lanikea to avoid her, she thought.

Thus, with no one to play with, Laniakea occupied herself by staring at the many books lining the bookshelves nearby. She ponders about how many unknown stories dwelled between each page...but really she thought about they were completely out of her reach. Nobody in her life had ever taught her how to read, nor was she ever given the opportunity to. Her brief schooling in Bulgar has failed to instill much of that knowledge into her. A detail the young girl was beginning to regret.

Wrapping her thick blanket closer, she frowns. She was bored...again.

She hears a voice emerge from an unseen location. It was sweet and reminded her of thick molasses.

"Hey there. Are you bored, Laniakea?"

The voice came from Camille, Canas' aftermentioned wife. Of everyone among the household she was the person Lani trusted the most. The little girl politely nodded, and the lime-green haired woman eases her way to her side...

Camille notes the tangled mess that was Laniakea's hair. The snowy white strands of hair had curled in on themselves, with the sight resembling a Carazanite jungle. She thought that some tidying up would do her some good, along with brightening up her day.

She asked, "Laniakea, would you like me to brush your hair?"

The little girl's face lit up. Her hair hasn't received any special attention for several years, and she yearned for the time that her mother used to gracefully brush her hair on her free time. She gleefully accepted, and Camille left to go get hair a brush from her room...

* * *

"We're glad you're back Samuel. Welcome home."

 _H-Home?!_

Amidst my mind scrambling for answers, and eventually, I realize my suspicion had been confirmed. Not only had I been here before, but it would appear this village was my home many months ago. On top of that, I held a close relationship with Canas, though to say to what extent was unknown to me as of yet.

Distant memories came flooding in, and I came to understand the purpose of my past dream in this room. After first taking control of my body in Sacae, I traveled north and arrived in Illia in the winter of 979. I got caught in a blizzard somewhere past the Great Divide, and my body was discovered by a local villager. That citizen then took me to this village, and my care was handled by the only person capable of healing magic; being the hermit Niime. After applying some initial treatment, he then transferred my care to her son, who tended to my frostbitten body for some time. That was where my memories ended, although I was certain there was much more to follow.

Canas tilts his head in curiosity.

"Samuel...why do you have that expression of confusion across your face? Is something wrong?"

I look at him and sigh. There was a lot to discuss...perhaps a bit more than I'd like to. Regardless, I began catching him up to speed in what I had been doing up to this point.

I said, "Canas, you're not going to believe this...but I've been through a lot..."

 **...**

Canas rubs his chin as he scribbled some notes on some parchment. He looks out the window and notices the sun hugging the horizon far away. My recantation has taken several hours to dispel, and Canas was jotting down some important points as to not forget them. I politely waited for him to finish, and once he did, the magenta-haired magician shook his head in disbelief.

He said, "I can't believe this. You're telling me you've fought in an inheritance dispute, a civil war, got involved with a shady spy ring, and traveled between four different countries...all within the time frame of several months? That's insane."

I nodded my head, "I don't expect you to believe me...but it's true."

He looks toward the direction of the door.

"That girl...is she...?"

"Yup. I met her mother at a ship carrying slaves bound for the salt mines of Nabata. We were fairly close..."

I pause for a moment...and held back the temptation to cry. I looked down towards the ground.

"She...she gave me a dying wish before she passed. She asked for me to find her daughter and keep her safe should she ever lose her life. Later down the line, she ultimately saved my life...so I couldn't find it in my heart to deny her wish. It was my intention to spend the next few years scouring the continent for her...but my employers didn't approve of that. They pressured me to give up on Lani's liberty permanently...and with everything that had happened...along with the guilt I was feeling at the time...I snapped."

Out of shame, I couldn't push myself to look at Canas in the eye. Good news was, the mage recognized the dark implications of pushing any further, and politely put my anxieties to rest.

He said, "Samuel, I want you to understand that it's okay. Despite what people may say about you, only you know the hardship you've had to weather through. I'm not going to ask what was done...but I will ask you one question. What will you do to make sure this never happens again?"

This was a question with an obvious answer. The demon inside me was the root of all of my problems, and like a parasite to a festering wound, the only solution is to remove the wounded limb entirely. It is only by exterminating the problem at its source that I will ultimately find any semblance of salvation.

I look Canas in the eye and with vigorous confidence, I give him my plea for justice.

"I'll destroy the demon that lives within me. By any means if necessary. I won't deny my responsibility in the atrocities I allowed him to commit...but I simply can't allow him to harm others. No matter what..."

Suddenly, I feel a sting of pain flare-up from my stomach. I had subconsciously lifted my upper body several inches above the bed, and the strain this had on me was beginning to pull open an old wound delivered by the Sword Demon. The magical bonds holding it together were starting to dissolve, and I took the pain as a sign that I should remain static.

Canas said, "Hey, no need to move. You need to lay down. My mother did a good job of sealing you up, but an extreme amount of force will undo her work. That wound specifically is very deep. I suppose it'd be that way if you were skewered after all."

I lie down and stay still. The pain soon subsided, and I was in a much more comfortable state. I rested my hand over my stomach as to stem any further stimulation, but I soon found that unnecessary. Whatever magic Niime had conjured up proved to be extremely potent, and it was more than enough to keep me intact.

After making sure I was okay, Canad shifted the conversation to something much more pressing.

He asked, "Samuel, is that demon...?"

I nodded, "Yeah, he's still inside me. I hadn't figured out how to get rid of him yet."

Canas frowned, "That's not good. The last time you were here, we had the benefit of him being dormant for the foreseeable future. Now that he's no longer so, I presume he won't hesitate to make his move once Sophia-"

I corrected him, "Erm...her name is Sothis."

His face went a shade of cartoonish red, and he proceeded to apologize.

"I'm sorry. I meant he won't hesitate to torment you once you lose Sothis' protection in the coming days. You said you had until the end of the month, correct?"

I nodded and shot a glance at a nearby calendar Canas had hanging on the wall. The day was December 29th; I had been comatose for a little under three days.

"Not counting today, I only have two days until the protection runs out. The dawn of the new year will also serve as the rebirth of that monster."

For a split second, I see Canas bite his lip. Although he did his best to hide the gesture, I could see that the lack of time was concerning to him. It didn't take much to realize why. His best friend had disappeared for months without a trace, only to return with a tirade of problems he himself could not fix. Although I hadn't known the young man for very long, I could infer that the elder magic-user had a good heart.

Canas sighed, "Well, that puts us in quite a predicament, say old friend?"

I forced a cheerful smile and gave him a thumbs up.

"Yeah...I'm really sorry. I come back with all sorts of injuries and a potentially homicidal demon lurking inside me. I'm nothing but a burden to you guys."

Canas shook his head, "No. The fond memories we shared here together is enough justification to save you. I'm looking forward to the day you're healthy, free, and void of all the wrong that inflicts you. Perhaps then, we can finally return to our previous lives in peace and tranquility."

 _Peace. That wasn't something I've felt in a long time._

Canas continued, "Still, it's a shame your mind has been affected by amnesia. I'm going to be honest, it stung a little when you didn't remember my name. Surely you must have one memory of me? How did you make your way here in the first place?

I pause for a minute to consider those questions. As of now, I've only received past memories by way of dreams, or from the cache provided to me by Azazel. The former was where my familiarity with this area originates, even if it was subconscious. Although I hadn't realized it until now, I had inadvertently walked in the exact path required to take me to this exact village in the mountains of southern Illia. This was compounded by the fact I did not have a map guiding me through the country, with only a compass and the stars dictating my path. When I first arrived at this village, I had simply assumed I had done so by accident...but now I can see that was only partly true.

As for Canas, the truth was a bit more complicated. I held only two memories of him in my mind, both of which painted him in a good light. In those dreams I was able to recognize him as a friendly force amidst a world of evil, even if I never remembered his name. A name I now knew.

I said, "Well, I did...but I didn't know your name. Whatever happened between me living here and waking up in Lyn's tent must've knocked that detail out of me."

Canas slumped his shoulders in disappointment.

"Oh...I see. That's a shame, though I suppose that explains why you never wrote back."

I chuckled, "Well, I didn't exactly have an address."

We shared a laugh, and for a moment, I was able to forget the past hardships that had befallen upon me. We spent the next few hours talking about the goings of the village, which wasn't much. This sleepy little town was rarely the subject of much banter, but given the unstable and chaotic lifestyle I had lived this far, I considered that a good thing. Canas recalled how some of the local children had begun to attend school when I was gone, and we pondered about how Canas' own son, Hugh, has only a few years left until he would join them. I also considered options in committing Laniakea to school as well, but Canas dissuaded me from worrying about such problems yet.

He said, "Before we can do that, we must address your glaring issue. I think you already know what that is."

I nodded, "Yeah...Azazel. We need to deal with him before anything else. Erm, tell me, do you know what I can do?"

Canas shook his head, "No, I'm afraid I don't. When you were here earlier, we tried to find some method to separate him from you...but we only ended up injuring you in the process. After several months of painful experimentation, we ended up giving up and hoped Azazel was going to stay dormant for the foreseeable future. Now that you've returned...that's clearly not the case."

Disappointed, I sigh. I had hoped that Canas or somebody in this village would have had a solution to the long-standing thorn to my side. Now, with no real options, it appeared that I would have to bear with the persistent torment and scheming derived from the demon sleeping within me. I groaned, and Canas did his best to comfort me.

He said, "Now now, I know that this situation isn't exactly ideal...but that just means we'll have to work harder. Starting tonight, I'll bury myself in my library in a bid to find answers. In the meantime, you sit tight and get healed up."

I protested, "I can't expect you to take all the burden for me. This is my issue after all. Can I help I some wa-"

Suddenly, I cough up a pint of blood. Canas instinctively managed to catch it with a handkerchief and eases me back onto my bedding. I had subconsciously overexerted myself...again.

He said, "Pardon me friend, but you're in no state to do such a thing. You need to heal up and it will take some time for you to return to form. My mother is planning to operate on you tomorrow afternoon, if you would allow it of course."

My eyes widen with shock.

I exclaimed, "Operate?! Like, cut me open?"

There was no way I was going to let anyone on this planet operate on me. This world's knowledge of bacteria and cleanliness standards was abysmal at best, and I've read enough stories about festering wounds to know to stay far away from any non-magical doctors. My body may be tough, but even then I was anxious to let anyone put me under the knife.

He shook his head, "Well yes...but no. The incisions won't be larger than half the size of your fist, and a purification bubble composed of light magic will keep the whole area sterile. Regular healing is insufficient given your gruesome injuries, we need to insure that the tissue grows back the way it's supposed to and not in a crude way like these past healers have done to your body."

My past healers hadn't spent more than a few minutes trying to fix my injuries, but though they made for good stopgap measures, their treatment did not address the core issues. The way healing works is that light energy initiated by a cleric would coat an injury with what could only be described as "white plasma". This "white plasma" then bonds with the injured tissue, and would speed up the natural healing process of our bodies many times over. This method is a very clean and fast way to treat wounds, however, it is not without its drawbacks. When done hastily on a particularly gruesome wound, not enough time is allocated to the healing process, and the exposed tissue would then gradually revert itself as the white plasma faded with time. In a worst-case scenario, the white plasma could cause injured tissue to grow too quickly, effectively creating a tumor within the patient. The only solution to wounds like mine would be for slow, precise application of white plasma onto my body, with the white plasma being mixed in with a mild flux component to stifle some of its fast acting properties. Such a procedure would likely take an afternoon, if not the entire day.

Canas continued, "Though, it's not the procedure I'm concerned about. Due to the flux component, you'll likely lose some motor functions to your limbs. The rehabilitation process is extensive, and will likely take several mon-"

"CANAS! THERE'S A BOY OUTSIDE OUR DOOR ASKING FOR SOMEONE! I THINK IT'S THAT SIMON FELLOW!"

Canas' face went red with embarrassment. That voice could've only come from one person. His mother.

He muttered, "Oh, it seems we'll have to discuss this later..."

He calmly gets up from his chair and walks towards the door. Opening it, he calmly replied, "Mother, it's bad manners to botch someone's name like that. His name is Samuel."

Another voice erupted from the hallway. The voice was oddly familiar...like I hadn't heard it for several months.

"Hey, that's him! Get out of my way old hag, you've given me enough trouble already!"

I hear a force jolt through the front door, and then a flurry of footsteps through the hallway. They were light in weight, but composed like a professor lecturing a classroom. Canas nearly tripped as a hand slightly pushed him away, and his figure came within my sight.

 _Saint Elimine..._

He wore a thick bundle of red robes in the Etruria style. His snow tipped boots were worn with wear, and ice stuck to the outer surface of his skin. His purple hair was messy like he was a man more dedicated to his studies than a haircut, and his purple eyes were tired from many sleepless. I knew who this person was...and it was someone I did not expect to see here. Especially with everything that had happened.

"Finally...I've found you."

We smile at each as old friends would. He extends his hand, and I shake the hand of Erk, one of my most beloved friends.


	41. Interlude

**Chapter 37: Interlude**

 **By SodiumChlouride12, derived from Fire Emblem, owned by Nintendo.**

 **A/N: Wow. This was long...even for me. The word count is approaching 8k words. FYI this length is more of the exception than the norm. There was just so much to write...I couldn't help myself.**

 **I'll try to keep this short. I've decided to scrap the Halloween special chapter. This is because when I started writing next week's chapter (yeah, I write a week ahead in advance to allow myself a week to think over what wrote...along with making some necessary edits) I realized I wasn't to going to able to finish it off in within the traditional 3-chapter arc. I left so much material that I knew I'd have to write another chapter to express it...so I decided to do just that. The last chapter for this arc will be on November 1st...see it as a little extra treat from me.**

 **Unfortunately, this also means my other fic won't be updated until November 8th. If you're a follower of that series...I'm sorry. If your not, then I suggest you become one so that the sadness is distributed more evenly. A finite amount of disappointment diluted across a higher volume of followers results in lower saturated despair. I think.**

 **As always a review or any other feedback is well appreciated. Just in case I made spelling error...go ahead and discreetly inform me about it in my inbox. I'm the only one that edits my stuff, so it's easy to miss over things. Thank you!**

 **N: Friends reunite after months apart. With new allies, Samue finally seems to have righted the ship. However, what other enemies lurk in the frigid mountains of Illia?**

* * *

 **Summit, Mount Mirki...**

Brutal, unrelenting winds bear down on a vacant clearing nested within the summit of Mount Mirki. The temperature was at or below zero, though at this point the sheer ferocity of the elements made such a detail irrelevant. Survivability in an environment like this was null, with living and non-living things alike becoming nothing more than a popsicle within mere moments of initial exposure. With that being the case, it's not surprising that this area was completely devoid of life, with Mother Nature keeping away her children with an impenetrable wall of frost.

Still, the summit was not void of activity. Amid the blizzard, there stood a lady encased in an aura of white. She stood there idly, with her eyes closed, and arms crossed across her body. Her hair had an icy blue tone, and her skin as fair as the surrounding snow. Her dress was archaic and foreign, as if they were the product of a long begotten era. Amid the blinding snow she could easily be mistaken for a statue, had it not been the slight movement underneath her eyelids.

She opens them to reveal a pair of bright, red eyes. As if waking from a nap, she stretched her arms outwards to the air and yawns.

"Yawn!"

 _Hmm...that was an adequate moment of repose. I sense something unusual however...a disturbance._

She turns around and walked towards a stone throne jutting from the hard ground. The throne was blocky and had a series of magical runes etched across its body, which glowed with a luminescent blue aura as she approached it. The snow that blanketed this structure evaporated immediately, and the lady took her seat.

With a wave of her finger, a blue orb projects onto the air nearby. She whispered an incantation, and the blue magic manifested into a trio of forms only visible to her. They looked like three flames in a pitch-black void, with each flame differing in color and intensity.

 _I see...three souls embarking on a journey. One is a jovial green spirit, likely divine in nature. The other has an eerie dark green tint to it, and upon closer inspection..._

Her faces wince with disgust. In an instant, she collapses the blue orb and the projection disappeared.

 _So much...untempered evil. It's so dominant as well...this can't be good. Evil like that only comes here for one purpose. It wants my power, and I can't allow it exact its will on me._

She rises from her throne, and her eyes glow with a red, then yellow color. She points her finger towards a collection of snow-covered boulders nearby and speaks in a language not heard since the Scouring.

"לחיות מחדש עם החיים, הילדים

שלי. להפיג את הרשע שיבוא."

The lady closes her lips, and for a moment nothing happens. Then, without warning the boulders begin the rumble with life. The formerly inanimate objects inch closer to one another, and with a sway of the lady's hand, they clump. What started off a clump morphed into a humanoid shape, then a golem. Two large stone behemoths were created with the magic that courses through the lady's hands, and once their genesis was complete they bowed respectfully towards their master.

They spoke in unison, "Hello. Geno and Genus have arrived to serve you. We have yet to lose a battle in your service. Dear master, what are our orders?"

The lady gives the golems a stern look. She had seen these golems many times before, although with different bodies. Many foolish travelers had climbed this mountain desiring her power, but the lady had rejected all of them. Their human temptations to power disgusted the divine spirit, and she felt compelled to deal with them in the same manner that their kind dealt with hers millennia before.

In this case, however, the perspective climber appears to be more demonic than mortal. Not that it mattered, she dealt with all of her climbers in the same way.

She commanded, "A demon will come here soon seeking my power. As some of the most powerful weapons in my armory, I expect you two will dispose of him rather easily. Do you understand?"

The golems stare at their master with blank faces. Due to the nature of their construction, their cognitive functions weren't too efficient. However, it didn't take long for them to reason their master's intentions. They nod.

The golems replied, "As you wish, master."

The golems proceeded to rise and vacated the summit by going down an equally frigid, mountain path. Their rhythmic steps were loud and shook the earth, but they didn't appear to affect the lady at all. Once it was clear to the lady that she was alone, she went back to her stone throne and rested her right hand under her chin. Her feet were just above a circular, bronze shield; an antique of older origins than her dress.

 _I suppose it won't hurt to take another nap. I'm so...very sleepy after all..._

The lady closes her eyes, and the luminescent light surrounding her began to subside. With seconds she was nothing more than a faint silhouette, then there was nothing. Her light was no more, leaving the stone throne vacant and gradually building up snow. It was like she was never even there. No evidence remained of her previous interaction save for the few missing boulders in a pile that contained dozens of them. The area returned to its state of controlled chaos, with the blizzard continuing with its unrelenting ferocity.

In times like these, only one thing was certain. Mt. Mirki was brutal. Mt. Mirki was unforgiving. A soul shan't pass through the foreboding guardians that protect the divine summit. Especially, one as evil like a demon.

* * *

 **Unnamed village, Illia...**

"Finally...I have found you."

Erk looked tired. The tips of his hair were frozen with ice, and his baggy eyes suggested he hadn't had slept in ages. His clothes were torn, and his boots worn. The ice on his body was melting as he stood there, with the excess liquid forming a puddle around his feet.

Canas looks at me dumbfounded, "Samuel...do you know this man?"

I nodded, "Yeah...I do. Erk! What...are you doing here!? I thought you were back home in Etruria."

Erk wipes some dust from his winter clothing. His face was red, though more so from the weather than embarrassment.

He replied, "I was, but now I'm here. I got some information that might be of use to you. However, first I'd like a change of clothes and some time near a fire. After that, a good meal would b-"

"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING IN MY HOUSE?!"

A voice rips through the serene household. It was the same one that had pestered Canas earlier, and for a moment I pitied the mage that was about to feel the wrath of Canas' mother.

Erk turned away from me and looks towards the hallway nearby. His normally calm expression quickly morphed into one of sheer terror.

"What? Oh no..."

Suddenly, a wave of black magic surges towards the mage. Erk raised his arms in a vain attempt to resist, but the effort was futile. The attack effortlessly swept him off his feet, and a black ooze pinned him against the lumber wall.

I exclaimed, "Erk!"

Erk struggles against the black mass, but doesn't budge. The magic covered his entire body like toxic sludge, though his face was spared so he could breathe.

Canas went to the doorway and protested.

"Mother! That's not how we treat our guests! Should I have to remind you that this isn't your house? My wife and I built this place with our own two hands!"

I began to hear the approaching footsteps of Canas' mother, who went by Niime. They were light and shallow, which was fitting given the fact she was an old lady. Her age was approaching the upper sixties, though her power and energy were more comparable to a Druid twenty years her junior.

She said, "Guest?! Bah! Nobody comes into my son's home asking for handouts and a place to stay. I haven't seen behavior like this since I used to work with the nobility in Etruria! I swear, they were so posh and expecting towards us commoners. It makes me sick to my stomach!"

Erk chimes in, "A fair assessment to make, witch. I'll have you know that I'm the protege of the great Lord Pent of Reglay!"

Another sphere of black magic flew through the hallway and towards Erk's mouth, closing it shut. Erk was not doing himself any favors.

Niime replied, "Ah shut it! I had to work with his father in my younger years, and his power was minuscule compared to mine. I am certain your lord is no different! Flaunting your lord's name won't get you anywhere here in Illia young boy!"

Another voice emerges from beyond the door. It belonged to Canas' wife, Camille. It was calm and sincere, which was in stark contrast to her stepmother.

She said, "Canas dear, I'm afraid mother's voice is frightening the children again. Is something wrong?"

Canas' face went tomato red. It was quickly feeling like the situation was beginning to spiral out of control, which did not sit well with the presumed head of the household.

He said, "Mother, I'm going to politely ask you to free the young man down..."

Niime replied, "I'm afraid I can't do that. We don't know who he is. For all we know he could be a-"

Canas calmly smiles and removed the bifocals that covered his eyes. He shot a glance over at the direction of his mother, who went eerily silent. He spoke with an equally unsettling tone.

"Dearest Mother, I can reassure you that if this man is as dangerous as you suspect, I am more than capable of defending you along with my family. Elder magic does have an advantage over Anima magic after all."

There was an awkward moment of silence. Mother and son glared at each other with unwavering gazes, as if sizing each other up should the issue of conflict arise. This went on for what seemed like an eternity, but then Niime blinked. The black sludge that imprisoned Erk evaporated in an instant, and the purple-haired mage falls with a thud. The young man grabbed onto his throat, and looks at Niime with defiant, yet meek eyes.

She said, "Bah! If you say so. Don't come to me if this friend of yours blows up in your face. However, let it be known that if anyone disturbs my research I will not hesitate to put my victim in an early grave..."

"I'll be taking my leave now."

Although from my vantage point I could not see Niime, judging from her footsteps I surmised that she was leaving. Erk slowly eases his way over to my bedside, with Canas momentarily leaving my vision to talk with his wife.

Camille said, "Oh my, she can be quite the handful."

Canas replied, "Well, that's my mother. She never changes."

Erk takes a seat on a chair nearby. His feet were still trembling the black sludge that held him still. His face was wrought with his anxiety, along with his voice.

He said, "M-Mark...what was that? Such terrifying magic...I've never seen anything like it."

In truth, the magic that was inflicted on him was terrifying. It was a derivative of the common flux spell known by many acolytes, yet Niime had used it in a new and disturbing fashion. It's probably a good thing I'm bedridden right now, otherwise, I fear this witch would use me as her own personal guinea pig.

I replied, "I'm not sure...by the way, I go by Samuel now. Sam for short."

Erk's eyes widen with shock.

"What?! Oh..."

Then, the purple-haired mage eyes rolled behind his eyelids. He swayed backward, and hit the ground with a thud.

I exclaimed, "What the hell?!"

It appeared that between finishing a long journey and getting blasted with questionable magics, it was my name that had finally pushed him pass his limit. Erk just fainted there on the floor, and it appeared he wouldn't awaken until he received some fulfilling, long-awaited rest...

 **...**

Erk said, "Oh...I see. You've recovered some of your old memories and learned that your true name is Samuel. It's a fitting name I suppose, in my opinion, it's much than Mark."

Erk had awoken several hours after his dizzy spell, and now we were spending our time catching up. We were still in the same room, although the layout had changed significantly. A spare bed was set right next to my own, along with a steaming hot pail of water, and a respective warm towel. Erk was busy warming up his frostbitten toes, while I still laid immobile in my sarcophagus of bandages and casts. The host was sitting in a chair at the opposite side of the room, with a dumbfounded expression across his face. Just like Erk, he was listening to my story patiently, though my journey thus far had been anything but peaceful. Camille has joined us as well, and she was by the side of her husband writing down notes like a court transcriber.

I replied, "Yeah. I only got that name because Lyn gave it to me. We're...not on good terms right now...so it feels nice to have a name I can call my own."

In truth, I deeply respected that name, Mark. To me, it represented the friendship and love we shared, as in a way it felt like Lyn had been there since the very beginning. The name she gave me was one I wore proudly, and I felt like that as long as I went by it, a part of her would always stick with me. But now I know that's impossible, and with our estrangement, I shedded my given name in favor for the name I received at birth. I had chosen a name that was connected to my old life, and thus I still cling on to my last remnant of that time. A remnant I'm still hesitant to give up.

Erk smiles, and takes a sip of tea provided to him by Camille.

"Well, I guess I got to start getting used to calling you Sam now. By the way, whatever happened to you and Lady Lyndis? You two were always so close, and I swore that you'd be spending the new year with her right now."

The New Year was one of the most important holidays in Elibe. It is treated in the same way Christmas was in my old world, with the exchanging gifts and reunion of families. Businesses were shut down, and peasants were allowed to fraternize without the inevitable grind of work looming over their heads. Lords would often open the castle gates to initiate a large feast, which would come in response to an enormous service held by the clergy. The New Year was also a popular holiday for lovers to tie the knot, as it is said the Creator granted special blessings at midnight. Had my life up to this point gone differently, I'd likely be in Castle Caelin partaking in the festivities...but that reality will be never be anything more than a pipe dream.

I said, "We've...separated. It's a long story...but...I don't want to talk about it."

Erk frowns, and leans back on his chair.

"I see..."

Thinking about that day was still as difficult as ever. Every time I tried doing so brought up images of Lyn's comatose body on the gray, damaged stone. Watching the life in her conflicted eyes leave her shook me to my core...but inversely it also drives me. I know that Azazel will not hesitate to harm my loved ones again. This monster deserves to meet his end. I shifted the conversation to that very subject.

I said, "Um, Erk you recalled earlier that you might have some useful information. Considering that you've decided to come all the way out here, and with New Year's right around the corner, by the way, I'm assuming it's of great importance?"

The purple-haired mage nods.

He said, "Indeed. I've found a textbook written by a certain ancestor of my mentor. I've found important information regarding homunculi and other dark creatures. In addition, I think I found a way we could get that demon out of you Samuel."

Ecstatic, I replied, "Really?!"

Erk rubs his stubbled chin with his hand.

"My only concern is that the information might not be accurate. The author was a man I've never heard of before, a certain Nicholas Azazel."

Canas nearly drops his tea.

He said, "Oh dear. That last name...isn't it the same one that your demon goes by?"

Azazel. It had never considered the possibility that this demon would go by his last name. Last names were rare here in Elibe anyhow, as a small medieval population meant a second name was deemed unnecessary. Last names were a triviality only granted towards nobility along with, of course, 19-year-old teenagers from another world. Even though I had a last name, I have yet to tell anybody of it. The Castillo name is a card I'd like to keep close to my body for as long as possible.

I replied, "The demon does call himself Azazel. Yet, I find it hard to believe that Nicholas and Azazel are the same person. I...just don't see this demon as much of a studious type. I doubt he'd sit still with a pen long enough to write a page, much less write a whole textbook."

Camille said, "There's always the possibility that Azazel the demon and Nicholas Azazel are related. If I'm not wrong, many of the Demon King's relatives fled Fibernia when he ordered the killing of his own twin brother. Nicholas might be among that group."

The Demon King's reign of terror was not restricted to his own people. After an initial reign of happiness and prosperity, an invasion from an unknown enemy changed the man for the worse. He fought the invasion back, but afterward lost his sanity and ordered every man and woman with a claim to the throne executed. Anywhere between 90-95% of nobility were killed or went missing, with the remainder making their way to Etruria or as far off as Carazan. The late king of Carazan was even said to have lineage to the ancient Demon King, though with his death I doubt anyone of significant standing will have that connection again.

Erk said, "Regardless of this man's identity, the simple fact that he had the Azazel name is not something to take lightly. Even now that name brings up negative connotations throughout the continent, with many of his descendants changing their last names generations into the future. Since this man still had his, that would infer he was a recent immigrant from Fibernia..."

Canas said, "You...don't think this book belongs to the Great Hazzan do you?"

I asked, "Great Hazzan?"

The Great Hazzan was a name given to the prominent, ancient leader of dark magic. His position was as important as the Pope is to the church now, although the two organizations existed centuries apart. In a bygone era, the Great Hazzan used to command over a church that used dark magic as its preferred medium, and the organization had followers numbering in the hundreds of thousands. Their base of operations was at the homeland of dark magic, the nation of Fibernia. However, the very nature of dark magic tore at the very foundation of the Hazzanite religion, with infighting quickly tanking their popular support. Centuries of this led to decline and fragmentation, and by the time King Azazel ordered the execution of the last Great Hazzan, the church only held a minor presence in the country it used to dominate. With the murder of the Hazzan, the last remaining acolytes were forced to flee the country, bringing their religion to isolated pockets around the world.

The Great-Great grandfather of Saint Elimine was among these refugees. He set up a small community near the Ilia-Etruria border and there his bloodline stayed idle for generations. The religion would have likely died there had it not been for the divine providence received by Elimine in her village. In legend, it's said she received a dream from the creator herself to take the Saint's Staff in a bid to save her world. She would go on to fight in the Scouring along with afterward founding an offshoot religion named after herself, but that's a story for another time.

There were rumors that Azazel's assassins botched the murder and the Hazzan managed to escape. However, with the passage of time, we can never be sure. The Hazzan's name has since been lost to history, and any potential descendants of the late Hazzan cannot be verified. There's even a theory that the Hazzan was none other than the King's aftermentioned twin brother, but it's just a theory. However, with no definitive proof the few remaining holdouts of the Hazzanite church can lay claim to no leader...and they continue to this day without one. The only way new Hazzan's come to bear is if the previous Hazzan resigns in favor of a successor. Since the last Hazzan was presumably killed the transition of power was broken...seemingly forever.

Canas puts down his cup of warm tea. The steam emitting from his beverage created a pleasant aroma that calmed my beating heart.

He said, "I'm sure you heard of the rumor of the last Hazzan's identity. King Azazel had a twin brother, a studious soul whose name is uncertain. Some say it was Christopher, others Nicholas. Still, there is a claim that the brother may have never existed at all, but this is all purely speculation."

I scratch the back of my head with my free hand. This was quite the mystery to solve, especially since none of us were historians.

Camille said, "OK, let's assume that this text was written by the Great Hazzan. With that, let's also assume the position at the time was held by King Azazel's twin brother, Nicholas. What does that do for us?"

Canas replied, "That would validate the information held within this book. The word of a Great Hazzan goes a long way, even now. More so since King Azazel's twin brother was said to be very close with his older sibling, until their estrangement."

Although there were rumors disputing the twin brother's existence, there was no doubt that if the brother did indeed walk the earth, his relationship with King Azazel was cordial. Every story involving the two had them supporting one another no matter the circumstances, even when it became apparent Azazel had lost his sanity. The twin brother kept his reservations silent, but the final straw came when the King began targeting his own family. The brother's tale ended when King Azazel inevitably ordered his execution, which coincidentally came around the same time the Great Huxzan was said to be sentenced as well.

Erk said, "There's only one way to know for sure. If we can prove that one item from this text is true, then we can assume the rest is as well."

He retrieved a small book from his pack. The book had a title, which read: _A detailed study on morphs._

He flipped over to a seemingly random page and read aloud a passage.

"Morphs, otherwise known as homunculi, have bodies manufactured from concentrated black magic. Thus, certain forms of light magic can harm them to devastating effect, although common spells like lightning cannot achieve this. One medium that can is blessed holy water, which can rip through the bonds that keep their bodies attached. A quarter pint of the liquid administered orally will lead to a quick death, while a mere drop of it can mildly blister exposed skin..."

Erk closes the book. I had a droopy expression across my face, unamused in what I had just heard.

I said, "Oh, I get it now. I'm a vampire."

Canas smiles, then stood up.

He said, "I suppose we'll have to put garlic around your room. I will also be informing the village girls to stay away from the streets after dusk."

The room breaks into laughter. Amid this gloomy talk of dead kings and demons, it was nice to have some fun in our lives. To be honest with myself, it's been a while since I've had a decent time.

Once the room had calmed down, Canas went for the door. Camille began retrieving our empty cups of tea, and placed them on an empty tray.

Canas said, "I'll be going to the chapel to retrieve a small vial of holy water. We're going to test this little hypothesis of ours..."

 **...**

I exclaimed, "Ow! Get this thing off of me!"

The holy water burnt through the skin on my right elbow like dry grass on a Texas summer. A _literal_ flame erupted from my limb as my body rejected the holy water, which didn't feel pleasant.

Canas rushes for a spare towel and wipes away the holy water from my elbow. After the initial frenzy, all that remained was a solid, red blister in the place of the flame. Erk and I look at each other in shock.

I said, "No way."

Erk looks at the book as if he had just figured out how to turn lead into gold.

He muttered, "So...the textbook spoke the truth."

I look at Erk with pleading eyes, and grabbed the scruff of his collar.

"Erk...does this book speak of a way I can get rid of this demon? I can't tell you how long I've lived with this...I want an out. I'm ready to get my life back...and fix the mistakes I've made."

Canas rebutted me, "No need to get too hasty. This could be a simple coincidence. We still don't know if-"

Camille rebutted him, "Canas, at this point what choice do we have? What other texts do we have on hand that could help him? Dear, you know in the past we've tried for months to find a way to help Sam. There's nothing in mother's grand library that is relevant to our friend's case."

In my first stint here, Niime was the first to recognize the dormant soul that shared my body. For several months the three of us scoured her library for a lead, but we came up short. Eventually, we decided that a solution didn't exist for my issue, and since Azazel at that point hadn't done any malicious deeds yet, we left the matter as is. It was only when I returned that Canas and Camille realized their mistake.

Canas said, "I see. This might be a gamble...but we'll have to accept everything Nicholas wrote as fact. Erk, if you may."

Erk obeys, and flips open his book over to a bookmarked page. The leather book was old, _really_ old. The pages were yellow, with the lead inscriptions fading with the passage of time. Its detailed illustrations have since faded away entirely, though luckily the wording still survived. Erk took great care in maintaining the book, especially since he had traveled several hundred miles to reach this very moment.

He said, "There's a divine dragon living at the summit of Mount Merki. She is said to have the power that allows her to separate souls, among other things. However, reaching this blue-haired being won't be easy, as she commands over a small army of golems, goblins, and other mythical creatures. A climber would have to deal with these obstructions while also scaling the tallest mountain in all of Illia, and there's no guarantee the dragon won't simply kill you when you reach the summit."

Canas' face morphs into one of intrigue.

He said, "That's odd, there's an urban legend about a similar being residing on that very mountain. We tell it to our children so that they don't try to scale the mountain alone with their friends, but nobody in recent memory has every scaled Merki. The last was the Holy Knight Barrigan, who scaled the mountain to extract the Frozen Lance Maltet which was embedded within a stone at the top. Many have tried to reenact his journey over the years, but so many have died that the local guild made it illegal to attempt it again."

I raise my brow.

"The name of the guild illudes me. What was it again?"

Canas shrugged, "Well, I suppose I can't fault you for forgetting. They go by the name Barigan's Fist."

 _Barigan's Fist...where have I heard of that name before? The name sounds familiar...too familiar for it to be a mere coincidence. Just put two and two together, Samuel..._

 _Ugh, all of these concussions are starting to catch up to me. I'm beginning to forget things...and I'm only 19 years of age..._

Suddenly, it hit me. An Ilian named Zealot claimed to be the leader of Barigan's Fist. He had offered me a job with his guild but I turned him down. I wonder if he'd returned home yet...

Canas slumps his shoulders. Disappointment wrought his whole body.

"Therein lies our problem. Even if we somehow had the strength or the ability to deal with the divine dragon's creations, along with climbing the mountain itself, simply approaching the mountain is illegal. The mountain pass is guarded by the guild, and I doubt they'd let us through, much less believe our story."

Everyone but myself reciprocated the feeling. There was an aura of defeat in the room, as if everything we had done up to this point was for nothing.

I broke the silence, "Erm, Canas is there be some way I could be temporarily treated so that I could climb the mountain? I think this whole deal would take a month, but I can't go on with the operation if I'm just going to have to be rehabbing after for an unknown amount of time."

Earlier, when Canas left to get the holy water, Camille went ahead and informed me about the details of the operation. The magic Niime wants to use is adaptive and slow-working, which is necessary to heal the extensive internal injuries I've suffered. Unfortunately, after the operation, I'll be left bedridden for anywhere between several weeks to several months, and the magic only works if I undergo a brutal rehabilitation process. Thing was, I don't think I have the time to commit for that, especially with this demon lurking over the corner.

Canas gives me a confused expression.

"Maybe...I don't know. I'd have to ask mother about that. Is there really any point in pondering about that though? I don't feel like spending a night in jail."

I smile, and reassure him.

"Don't worry about that. Coincidentally, I happen to be well acquainted with the leader of Barigan's Fist. I'm sure we can work something out..."

* * *

 **The next day...**

 _I've reinforced the white plasma covering up your wounds..._

 _The pain will still be there, but at the very least you should be able to move like your old self. This is only a temporary fix, so my magic won't last for more than a month. Don't push yourself...otherwise, you'll make short work of my labor..._

Niime's words ring through my mind. I'm reminded of them every time I put too much pressure on my ankle, or when I felt a random sting of pain. As it turned out, Niime did have a way to fix me up for the time being, although the result wasn't too pleasant to behold. It appeared that I'd be working through pain again...though what else was new?

Canas said, "Come on Samuel. Zealot is waiting for us."

We were at the headquarters of Barigan's Fist, which was conveniently only a short walk away from Canas' house. This village (which is named Holgar) served as the de facto "capital" for the guild, though moreso for its strategic location than its population. Since this part of Illia was so sparsely populated, the majority of this "province's" population resides in the only city; Carrhae. However, Carrhae is located at the Far East of this guild's jurisdiction, and for the sake of the villages (which provided a solid 60% of all the guild's manpower) the decision was made to make the capital as centrally located as possible. Thus, here I was in the guild's headquarters, a building that dwarfed every structure around it.

The HQ was a large, stone citadel fashioned in the style of an 8-verticied star. In addition to serving as a formidable fortification, the interior was lined with a dozen or so offices, not unlike the Pentagon in the United States. It was here where the treasury and other administrative matters were kept and maintained, along with being the home to the Chief Officer and all of his adjutants. The building was clean and well maintained, with well swept stone floors and crisp, spruce wood furniture. Torches kept the area well lit, and the halls were filled with officers conversing about the goings about Illia and the world. Within the thick walls was a large field that served as training grounds, with horsemen and Pegasus knights going at it with grounded targets. All in all, it was quite an impressive structure to behold, especially when compared to the other quaint dwellings surrounding it like Canas' house.

Canas, Erk, and I went through a large iron gate that served as the Citadel's entrance. We walk through the winding stone hallways and were led to a small waiting area. A stern-looking Pegasus knight waved us through, pointing towards an equally intimidating receptionist that hid behind a long line of Illians.

Canas mumbled, "Oh boy, now we wait."

I said, "It can't take that long...right?"

The line was _ridiculously_ long. On top of that, the brunette receptionist girl was taking her sweet time dealing with each individual person, and I found myself ticking the time away with my pocket watch. I tried to pass the time by starting up a conversation with my two companions, but after several hours we ran out of things to talk about. By then we had reached the midpoint of the line, and it was already midday.

In act of desperation (or perhaps out of boredom), I garnered the attention of a group of 15-year-old boys behind me. Their personalities were about as colorful as their hair color, and they seemed responsive to my questions.

I asked a blue-haired boy, "Pardon me, young man, how long does this queue usually take?"

His buddy, a freckled lad with red hair, laughs.

He said, "Hah! If you're trying to take the BFVAB then I hope your prepared to be here all day. We probably won't be in the system until lunchtime, and testing till six o' clock!"

Intrigued, Erk asked, "The BFVAB? What's that?"

The freckled lad said, "The Barigan's Fist Vocational Aptitude Battery. It's how they find out what role you're going to serve with the guild. There are six subjects they test on, which is Magic Understanding (For mages), Mount Knowledge (Pegasus Knights, Cavaliers), Archery, Weapons (Swords, Lances, Axes), Rationale (Intelligence), and Leadership. Depending on how well you do on these subjects, you can be selected for certain roles while snuffed for others. I hear that if you do well in Rationale and Leadership they'll send you to a certain school, but the role is unknown..."

His blue-haired friend rolled his eyes, "Please Joey. No one's scored higher than a C on both of those since Commander Zealot did it when he took his test. Stop dreaming and focus on being a good mage like your father."

Joey shruggs his shoulders, "Well, I can dream, can't I? Nobody wants to be a lowly grunt for their entire lives..."

The two friends dwelled into an arguement over whether or not Joey's opinion was one of ambition or laziness. I backed away slowly, and hid behind the dark robes of Canas and Erk, fearful for if the talkative teenagers were to ask for my opinion on the matter...

Eventually, midday turned to lunchtime, and sure enough, we were finally at the front of the line. The receptionist had since been switched out for another attractive young lady, although I hadn't noticed until now. We locked eyes almost immediatly, and I couldn't believe my eyes.

She had short hair which were unforgettably bicolored. The vortex of light blue and purple shone well from the sunlight provided by the nearby window, and her blue eyes were wide with astonishment. For a moment, I tried to erase the rags I had seen her in a long time ago, and gawked at the dapper looking lady who's whole aura had changed. She looked familiar...but how?

I said, "Woah."

Equally as surpised, she replied, "I-It's been a while tactician. Do you still remember me? I was one of the prisoners you rescued from the slavers."

Yeah...there was no doubt in my mind now. She was the same person.

I said, "Yeah...how could I not? It's not every day that I see somebody with bicolored hair. Erm...how have you been? I don't think I managed to get your name."

The girl blushes like a love-struck teenager and turned away. I didn't think I was all that flirtatious...or was it my accent skewing my speech again?

Canas said, "Pardon me milady, but there's a line behind us and I'd like to be home before dinner. Neither of us have eaten lunch yet."

The girl quickly composes herself and quickly extracts some paperwork from a drawer.

She said, "Oh, I'm sorry! I've only recently got this job...but I'll get right to it. What's your reason for being here today misters?"

Erk replied, "We'd like to speak to Commander Zealot. Our friend here is an acquaintance of his, and we have some important matters we'd like to discuss."

The girl nodded, and scribbles in some numerals under an empty entry on a piece of paper.

She asked, "I'm sure he's expecting you. What's your appointment number?"

Canas raises his brow, "Appointment number?"

She replied, "You should have gotten one when you set it up with him. You can't just walk in here without a number, we a have system you have to go through."

With a hint of panic in his voice, Erk said, "Are you meaning to tell me we waited in this line for nothing?!"

The girl pauses, them briefly shoots a look over her shoulder. I inferred she was looking for her supervisor, who nowhere to be seen.

She said, "Well...I suppose if it's for your friend here...then exceptions can be made."

She looks straight back at me again.

"What's your name, mister? I can go ask the commander myself if he has time on his schedule...if you'll let me."

The clerk's tone of voice was incredibly flirtatious, and her nonverbals communicated her interest towards me. My companions looked at me with anstonished eyes, waiting for me to make my next move. An anxious bead of sweat falls down my brow. Given this girl's attractive physique and her molasses-like voice, I'd be lying to myself if I didn't admit I found her cute too.

Bah, what are these thoughts? My heart belongs to Lyn. But...given everything that happened between us...is a future between the two of us even tenable. Is it even in the realm of reality?

Before I could answer these questions however, I had to address this receptionist's sly attempt in learning my name. With my head hot with emotion, I inadvertently gave her my real name...as opposed to a manufactured one.

I said, "It's Samuel. But, you can call me Sam."

The girl smiles, and rises from her seat. She walked away from her station and began making her way towards the door. She had a slight limp due to the wooden prosthetic that replaced her right foot.

She said, "Alright, I'll send for him right away..."

Before she crosses the door away from our sight however, she shot one last glance at me. As if teasing our courtly encounter, she winks.

"My name is Alexia. You can call me Alex for short though. See you soon..."

 **...**

"So, you want me to grant you permission to climb Mt. Merki..."

We were in the office of Commander Zealot, the youngest field commander out of any guild in Illia. The room was small and quaint, with every piece of furniture in the room serving a practical purpose. We were sitting on comfortable, homemade office chairs, with the glossed pine wood soft to the touch. A large map of the world was hanging behind Zealot's desk, which was occupied with neatly fashioned paperwork. An open window brought in ventilation along with sunlight, and the sounds of wooden swords breaking upon one another were audible.

Alexia had managed to get ahold of Zealot, and once he heard my name he dropped whatever he had planned for the next hour and sent for us. We were spared from the endless line that was still visible from the window, and I was just glad to be sitting down for a change.

I said, "Yes. I have...an issue that needs to be resolved."

Zealot replied, "Hmm. Does it happen to involve the demon Azazel?"

I flinch and Canas bit his lip. Erk was the first to recover from the initial shock.

Erk said, "How...did you know?"

Zealot smiled, "Well, I didn't. It was a rumor one of my little birds picked up. However, thanks to your reaction, I know now."

I grit my teeth.

I said, "Yet, knowing that, are you still willing to let us climb?"

Zealot nodded, "Indeed. However, the guild is not willing to help you unless some compensation is in order. We stand to gain nothing from this after all..."

Canas asked, "We didn't ask for help. Just permission."

Zealot scoffed, "I think that's beyond what you three are able to handle on your own. We've been well aware of the divine spirit that resides on that mountain for some time now. If you truly intend to reach the summit, then you're going to need some of our mercenaries."

Mercenaries weren't cheap. Most went for about 100 gold per month, while the higher end troops went for nearly 1000. I only had about 10,000 gold in the bank...which was as good as frozen given our time frame.

I asked, "What do you want?"

Zealot replied, "I think you know what I want. My offer from before still stands. Finding experienced tacticians is impossible given the relative peace in Elibe...our guild would do well to add you to our ranks."

I knew he was going to bring that up. However, I had no intention to return to warfare again. The same experience that had me so desired was also reminding me of the evils of war. There was no such thing as an "honorable" war because, in essence, all war achieved the same thing. Indiscriminate, unrestricted destruction.

I shook my head, "If your asking me to come on as your tactician...then I'm sorry to tell you that is no longer a possibility. I've fought in many places...whether it be in the rolling hills of Lycia or the dense streets of Carazan. I'm retired from warfare...and that's the end of it."

Zealot has a disappointed expression across his face, but I knew he wasn't someone to give up so easily.

He said, "What else can you offer me then, Samuel? What other ways can you benefit the guild...or even our people? You should know that here in Illia we don't necessarily trade things like money...we prefer service transactions. A service...for a service."

I smile, and I remember the centuries-old bridge Laniakea and I used to cross the border. I also remember the non-existent roads that tore at Laniakea's feet before they got frostbitten and the utter lack of infrastructure around Illia as a whole.

I said, "I think I have something I can offer you. Something much greater in value as my skills as a tactician..."

I had a grand vision for Illia. One that involved unlocking the country's true potential, a far cry from the abject poverty that ruled these people. After all, these people have yet to completely understand the gifts provided to them by the land...and it will be my duty to show them. My calling was never to destroy...but rather to create. I had never been given the chance to do the latter, but as I shake the hand of my soon-to-be superior...I realized I'd finally be able to get that chance.

* * *

 **A/N: I know how y'all feel about Lyn, so don't crucify me. I swear this is going somewhere...be patient. I'm not the type of person to put a couple together without development. Sometimes...that has to come at behest of some seperation. Also, no addendum.**

 **P.S: I'm thinking about inserting cameos of you guys. If you're interested, PM me.**


	42. Final Journey

**Chapter 38: Final Journey**

 **By SodiumChloride12, derived from Fire Emblem, owned by Nintendo.**

 **A/N: This chapter was fun to write! It's been a while since I've written some battles, so I hope I don't disappoint.**

 **As stated before, the last chapter of the arc will be next week. After that, the series will be going on a one month pause as I write for my other series; which y'all should totally check out if you haven't already.**

 **Anyway, as usual, feel free to drop a review or to follow if you haven't already. If I could personalize the buttons for those commands I would have already...but I can't so...please slap that like button? Like just get your hand and slap your phone or computer screen...or whatever. I shouldn't have wrote this part lmao.**

 **I'm not liable for any damages.**

 **P.S: I might have a few spelling mistakes here and there. I usually spend an hour editing everything I write the Thursday before I publish, but I'm only human. I can guarantee that a solid 99% of all errors have been dealt with, but if y'all see something obvious then go ahead and PM me. Thanks!**

 **N: Dreams come to Samuel in weird ways. He sees things other can't see...but he begins to piece little fragments together. Perhaps then he can unlock some hidden strength.**

* * *

The void. That was the name I assigned to this place, a dreamscape devoid of all matter...or any internal stimuli. Much like a blank canvas, the void could provide no art on its own, but rather an external artist has to arrive to deliver the canvas to its full potential. That potential was great indeed, with a proficient being able to construct huge environments using nothing but their imagination, however even this comes at a risk. No ordinary person can expect to wield the power of the void, as one must expect to give themselves to this mysterious force to do so. A mysterious force it was indeed...though I do have suspicions to its origins.

Just as light can be associated with all things materialistic in nature, the opposite can be inferred about the dark. To be lacking in light is what it means to be dark, and to continue on that philosophy, the lack of matter is what the void is. With that in mind, I believe the void represents the precursor to all dark magic. A mysterious force that only shows itself to some people, though I am unsure of what cause. To say that the void showed itself to a selective group of people would suggest that this force was sentient in nature...but I have yet to see anything that can suggest that. Rather, the void appears to be a natural phenomenon in nature, an antithesis to the materialistic world we live in.

I have yet to understand what the void can do for me...or if it even has any capabilities outside of affecting my dreams. What I do understand is that the void serves at a medium for the two other souls within me to survive, as otherwise my concussed brain would have likely killed them off by now. The void serves as a neutral agent in my struggle with Azazel...but I wonder if I could use it to my advantage. If such a thing even possible...where would I even begin?

I need to find an answer soon, with or without the void. Sothis' voice has now completely evaporated, and today is the last day of her protection. By midnight tonight, Azazel will break from his chains and will likely punish the fragile goddess in whatever way he sees fit. I can't imagine the torture she'd be subjected to...and I mustn't let that happen. I want to protect Sothis...but how? Perhaps if I could somehow imprison Azazel for just a little while longer, or relocate Sothis at a place where she'd be safe. The void could provide an answer for that...but I have yet to wield its full potential...

...

Ugh...I can't think about this now. I have the day to think about it...and it's time to wake up. We're leaving for the mountain today...and I can't oversleep...

* * *

 **That morning...**

Laniakea sits idly on the living room floor. Her still numb feet were warming steadily by the chimney, and the little girl took great care as to not get too close. She did not wish to burn them and wanted to avoid any more unnecessary damage to her feet. She had hoped that as time passed, the feeling would return to her limbs...but as of yet, that was not the case. It's been nearly a week since she'd reached this place...and she was worried that the day would never come when feeling would once again grace her toes.

She sighs. She knew that this situation was partly her fault. Had she never let her fear control her...maybe she would have stayed to hear Samuel's message out. Then, she wouldn't have escaped into the frigid wilderness alone with her bare feet. That man had shown her nothing but kindness thus far...but the evil aura surrounding him was too significant to ignore. What troubled her even further was that the evil seemed to be increasing by the day, and the odor it gave off was absolutely revolting. Nobody in this household could detect it but her, a detail that didn't help to dampen her sense of isolation.

She leans back and allows her straightened out hair to touch the floor. She liked this feeling, as the added attention to her hair made her feel clean and more orderly; a stark contrast to her life thus far. Camille had done an amazing job in her opinion, and her handiwork felt like something she'd do for her own daughter. Perhaps the lack of one pushed her to dote on Laniakea just a little...but the little girl was thankful nonetheless.

Just as she finishes that last thought, a hideous odor violated her senses. It's revolting and comparable to liquid gasoline. This smell was familiar and was tied to only one person.

Samuel.

She hears the door to the family guest room open, and the man in question came into view. He was still wearing the purple outfit he had underneath his winter clothing, with the latter still hanging on a coat rack by the front door. His traveling boots were snug on his feet and his white mask attached to his face. His heterochromic eyes shifted across the room, eventually landing softly on Laniakea...and they shared a somber gaze. The little girl was speechless, the product of a mixture of fear and uncertainty.

Samuel broke the silence. He spoke in a soft tone, but she could hear the exhaustion he hid underneath it.

"Good morning."

She replied, "Good morning."

"Are...your feet doing alright? Camille mentioned to me earlier that the frostbite left them numb...it's gotten me a bit worried."

Laniakea nodded, "I'm fine. I just...it's still numb. I think it'll go away soon. D-Don't worry about it."

That was a lie. Truth was, she was unsure if she'd ever feel anything down there again. However, her fear still pushed her to downplay the issue. She didn't desire any unwanted attention.

He replied, "Alright..."

There was a brief, awkward pause. Neither of them maintained eye contact, and neither wanted to speak. The odor was getting less bearable by the minute, and the sensation was making Laniakea's eyes water.

Samuel said, "Oh, I'm sorry...I'm really sorry. I...I think I'll leave."

Laniakea nodded but doesn't say anything. Samuel proceeded to make for the front door and took his jacket and snow pants off from the hanger. He opens the door, and a cool jet of air flowed through the house. He takes a step out, but before leaving he turned back towards Laniakea.

He said, "Hey...I'll make this right. I know you can see the evil within me...but next time we meet I hope we can turn over a new leaf. I'll...be gone for a while. A little over two weeks. Camille has agreed to care for you while I'm gone. Take care and don't push yourself. I'll be back...I promise."

Then, the man vanished out through the door. It would be some time until Laniakea would see him again. Until then, she was left wondering if he truly meant what he had said, or if it was just another of the countless lies told to her by the adults.

Laniakea sighs and wipes away a stray tear from her red eyes. Silently, she hoped it was the former.

* * *

 **Later...**

Provided we had good weather, the journey to Mt. Merki would take precisely three days. After agreeing to terms with Zealot, we decided that the guild would provide four of their best soldiers towards our cause...

The first was a blue-haired Pegasus Knight named Sigurne. She's about 16 years of age and had a relatively big frame compared to other knights. Her skill as a mounted knight had earned her a nickname, the "Ivory Devil". She was a very honorific and professional in her craft, with her only noticeable flaw being her choice of weapon. She wielded a heavy spear as opposed to a normal iron lance...a weapon that packed a punch at the cost of speed. Although the speed penalty wasn't great...I understood it would provide an issue should we end up in a fight longer than a few minutes. Had the knight been 20 pounds heavier then maybe she'd actually have the strength for prolonged engagements...but I digress.

The second was a paladin named Zelophe. He's an older fellow at his mid to late 30's. A more balanced soldier, he has proficiency with both swords and lances. Like Sigurne he also carried himself in a professional manner, though he was much more kind than the latter. He was likely the most experienced fighter in our party, with more than 100 battles to his name.

The third was a cleric who went by the name of Renault. He appeared to be in his late 50's, but his clean-shaven face hid some of his age. To my knowledge, he's only been with the Fist for a couple of years, though I am _certain_ he's been a mercenary for much longer than that. He won't tell us if that's the case, and insists he's a man of the cloth for decades now. Still, he has a rather introverted personality and keeps to himself; I often caught him staring off into space as if thinking about some past injustice.

Lastly, the final mercenary was a swordsman named Gin. He was short, no more than 5 feet 4 inches. A sword that dwarfed him in stature rested atop his shoulder, with his youthful face grinning. Rumors say he has the best sword arm in the Fist, though I find that hard to believe. His fighting style resembled more like a brigand than an honorable knight, but there was no denying the power in his swings. He even claimed to have once cleaved a boulder clean in half. Out of all the mercenaries he was the most laid back of the bunch, along with having the most active tongue.

With everyone together, we had two mages, one cleric, one pegasus knight, one paladin, and one swordsman. I couldn't count myself in the mix due to my disability...but our group will still quite balanced. We were going to need it too, our party hinges on the strength of our robust frontline, along with the firepower provided by our frail secondary. Given the uncertainty I have about what we could face at the mountain, I felt blessed.

Our journey began when we met at the village's front gate. The walls that surrounded us were icy and covered in snow. The weather was brisk but clear, and my breath condensed in air. My joints ache with the sheer cold...but I persevere nonetheless. A lone guard watched us aloofly as we talk about our plan of action.

The Paladin Zelophe said, "So, our Oracle has predicted clear weather for the next week. Mount Merki is east, and if we move at a fast pace we should be able to reach there in three days."

Canas added, "Indeed. However, I suspect the climb won't be so easy. The elevation is high, and slopes quite steep. You and Sigurne will likely have to dismount..."

Sigurne waved away his concerns.

She said, "Don't worry about us. Our contract states that we have to deliver the client to the summit and return him here. We'll manage...I'm quite skillful with a sword if required."

Erk said, "Alright just...keep any enemies away from me, Canas, and Renault. We're not built to take a hit."

Renault says nothing. I look at him and realize that he towered over Canas and Erk. His posture was similar in stature to Zelophe's, and had it not been for his white robes I would have assumed he was of the Hero class. There wasn't a doubt in my mind that he was fairly stocky for a priest.

I said, "Erm...we should get going then. There's no point in wasting daylight here. We can talk as we travel..."

* * *

The journey to the mountain was uneventful, and as predicted the weather was no obstacle to us. No bandits harassed us, and we didn't see any travelers on these isolated mountain paths. Elk and other aggressive fauna stayed clear of us; we spent our nights sleeping under the open, night sky. The only nuisance on our journey was the paths themselves, which were horribly maintained. Potholes reigned supreme on these unpaved roads, and the rocky ground proved rough on our shoes. At one point we even had to pause to replace our boots that had worn thin, though luckily we were proactive enough to bring spares.

I spent most of the journey talking to our comrades. My best interactions were with Canas and Erk (for obvious reasons), but I was beginning to break the ice with our other party members as well. Everyone proved receptive to my inquiries, save for Renault.

By the second day of our journey, we were all already well acquainted with one another. I discovered many things about our companions, like their ideals and motivations. Zelophe is currently married with aspirations for children, though as of yet he and his spouse's dedication to the Fist have prevented him from achieving this goal. He aims to increase his reputation in the guild by being the first paladin to climb Mt. Merki since Barigan did it centuries ago, and then perhaps use the added leverage for a cushy position at the Citadel.

On the contrary, Sigurne had more ambitious goals. She aimed for promotion to flight leader status, which is essentially a commander of anywhere between a division and a regiment of Pegasus knights. Illia was one of the few militaries in the continent that was solely merit-based, and she understood that the only thing in between herself and the recognition she so desired was her own mortal limits. She hoped to extend those limits as far as naturally possible...even if it came at the cost of those weaker to her. Still, she carried herself with honor and professionalism...which was a trait I greatly appreciated.

Gin was an aloof soul. He was only here to collect a paycheck and exhibited none of the discipline his peers had. It quickly became clear to me that he had reached this position by sheer natural talent alone, with no care for training. Still, he was a charismatic character. His love (and tolerance) for ale was unmatched, and he spoke fondly of the many barfights he participated in his relatively short life. He fights neither for his family nor for his country, and was convinced in his belief that he only fought for himself. Ironically, this was a point we were able to empathize with each other on. I've only ever fought in the service of others...so I found this small independent knight fascinating.

Unfortunately, I've never had the chance to talk to Renault. He kept himself isolated from the rest of the pack, always stealing glances towards me when I wasn't looking. I wondered if he considered me suspicious...but I definitely saw him so. I made it a habit to avoid him, as did the other members of our party.

After three days of traveling, we eventually reached the base camp of Mt. Merki just as the sun began kissing the horizon. Well, to call it a base camp would be generous. In actuality it was a wide-open space that'd be an ideal place to set up camp; no actual people or structures existed here. The Ilians just called it base camp because in the past this place used to be the starting point for many expeditions to the summit, but now nothing remained of that time save for a few turned stones...

With dusk approaching, we pitched our tents and started a fire. Soon after, dinner was served and we elected to retire for the evening. We would rise early in the morning to take advantage of the limited daylight, along with starting our climb to the summit.

Counting base camp, there were four "camps" located on Mt. Merki, with each appearing at approximately 2,000 ft increments. Base camp was first, which stood at about 18,000 ft above sea level. Following that was camp 1, camp 2, and so on. At the end of the climb was the summit, which stood at about 28,000 ft. In addition to the difficult climb, there was no telling what enemies we would face along the way...

Coincidentally, we would find out soon enough.

* * *

 **That night...**

 _ **A:** Hehehe..._

 _Your time's run out Samuel..._

 _What will you do? You know how will this end._

 _One day...I will take back my body. I will reinstate my reign of terror and kill every single person you've cared about..._

 _Canas? I'll burn him and his family. Erk? I'll make him wish he never met you. That little dragon girl you've sheltered...?_

 _I'll leave the best for her, I'll drain her quintessence to enrich myself...just as I had done with the green-haired scoundrel. I'll watch her life leave her...just as I had done many times already..._

 _Oh...that reminds me. I still have to finish off that nuisance as well. It won't take much effort from me to find her. Knowing how much she hates us...I could probably stay put while she searches the continent in an impudent quest of revenge. Then...I think you'll know what I'll do..._

 _Every king needs an heir after all..._

Cough* *Cough*

I wake up covered in my own sweat, with my heart beating at a rapid, anxious pace. My hands tremble, and I looked around frantically in the darkness. Moonlight trickled in through the thick tent, and a strong gust of wind pushes against it like a sail. I push my hands against the cold ground and lean forward, allowing my heavy head to ache due to the lack of sleep.

 _By Elimine...he's back..._

Amid my uncomfortable state, I take a deep breath and sigh. Erk and Canas (whom I was sharing the tent with) were peacefully snoring away through the night. Covering the former's face was a book that had an illegible cover, while the latter had his monocle secured away in a case. I take a moment to calm myself, but even then I felt like the walls were beginning to close in on me...

 _I...I think I'll go outside. Can't hurt..._

Committed to my new mission, I silently put on my boots and jacket. I open the tent flap and quickly vacate my temporary home, while taking great care not to wake my friends. Looking out towards the camp I noticed that a slight flurry was beginning to paint the ground white, though our waterproof tents seemed capable to handle it.

The scene was calm, and I took the opportunity to walk off towards a gorge at the end of the camp's radius. This place had a wide-open view of the earth below, with mountains and tundra dotting the landscape. A beautiful full moon left a luminescent shine over the terrain, and I made my way closer to bask at the wonderful product of Illia's enviroment.

 _Woah. This place...it's gawking to look at. I never knew a place like this existed in Elibe. The trees, the peaceful air. Even the snow has a cool aura to it. It's so beautiful...I wish I could have..._

 _Shared this moment with Lyn..._

I close my eyes. For a moment, I remember all the fond memories we shared together. I remember waking up in her bed, with no memory of my past. I remember how she took me in without question, and with no regard for her own personal situation. I remember the impulsiveness of her personality, and how she was so quick to decide she wanted to embark on a journey with a stranger she just met. I remember the moments we shared under a night sky much like this, and how we'd gaze upon the constellations. I remember the times we befell into petty arguments, and how we'd be mad at each other...but yet we could never force ourselves to be that way forever. She wasn't perfect...and neither was I...but yet my heart still clings to her...even now.

I look up towards the stars, and my eyes begin to water. Large blots of tears streak down my face, weaving and dancing on top of my skin like a figure skater. The grief was too much to keep within me anymore, and with nobody but myself and whatever god existed in this world, I allowed myself this brief moment of weakness.

...

As filled with regret as I am, I can't continue to beat myself over this. Behavior like this is unhealthy, no matter how justified. I need to focus on my future and stop pandering with the past. It will be then, and only then that will I finally be able to live with myself...and receive the happiness I so desperately desire in my life...

"You seem troubled."

A voice catches me off guard, and I quickly turn around to meet it. It was unfamiliar in nature, and the paranoia within me causes me to jump to conclusions.

 _No way! Did Nergal find me?!_

I said, "W-Who are you? Did N-"

Before I could finish my sentence, a tall robed figure breaks through the darkness. I see a priest with gray hair along with stern expression across his face, and I allow myself to go at ease. The voice did not belong to one of Nergal's goons as I had feared. Rather, I was greeted by the solitary priest in our party (with whom's voice I hadn't heard yet), Renault.

He said, "Calm yourself, child. I heard some muffled...noises just as I was about to make my morning prayers. Would you like me to pray for you when dawn comes?"

Prayer wasn't something I really believed in...but I found it hard to say no.

I replied, "Yeah...I'd like that a lot, Father..."

We spent the next half hour silently praying by the mountainside. All throughout this experience, I kept on thinking about the girl I missed out on and wondered how she was. I thought about how she would adjust to her new life as the princess of Caelin, and whether a plainswoman like her could smoothly transition into a lifestyle of pomp and circumstance. Knowing her, she's probably dreaming about the plains she held dear back home. However, I knew she wouldn't be so fast to leave. She held family above all else, and I was certain she'd be doing her best to stay with her grandfather back in Caelin.

However, I wondered for how long. In a situation like this, home and family were two things entirely separate from one another, and the day would come where she'll desire to go back. This current compromise of her values was untenable, and should this state of mind continue, I fear Lyn could be pushed into a life she doesn't want. Should Lycian politics come into play, she might even be married to a rich noble she would otherwise have no business with if only to ensure her canton remained safe. The geopolitical situation at Lycia was shaky at best, and I knew it didn't take much for a lord to attempt a power play. Lyn truly cares for the people of Caelin...and I understood she wouldn't hesitate to give herself up for the greater good...

Even at the cost of her own happiness...

Thump*

The ground shakes a little. I paid it no mind as small tremors like these were common around Illia. The country likely rested on top of a tectonic plate.

Thump* *Thump*

That's odd. Usually, they're not back to back. I must be experiencing some freak of nature...not that I cared.

Thump* *THUMP* *CRACK!*

A nearby tree falls onto the rocky ground and splintered into dozens of pieces. At this point, the noise was too loud to ignore, and I turn my head towards it. I gasped.

Standing by the mountain face were two, HUGE stone golems. Their bodies were composed of large gray boulders, with smooth heads somewhat resembling blank faces. From head to toe they stood at about 11 feet tall, with equally as intimidating axes in their right hands.

I tap Renault's shoulders, but he was already looking at the new threat before us. We stared at the monsters in silence, as if standing still would keep them from detecting our presence.

We were wrong. The golems slam their axes onto the ground in unison, with the shockwave sending echoes miles in all directions.

I bit my lip. The sun begins to rise over the horizon, laying our soon-to-be battlefield with its gratifying light.

I said, "Renault...how good are you with that staff?"

Renault raises his brow, he had almost taken that as an insult.

He replied, "I'm serviceable. My magical power isn't high, but I have plenty of mana."

I sigh. My anxious heart had cranked up again, and adrenaline began to flow through my body.

I said, "Good. Cause we're going to need it..."

* * *

Bif! SLAM!

Gin flies through the air, and lands feet first against a wall. He slows his momentum and effortlessly glides back onto the floor. However, despite the grace he inhibited in his footwork, his shoulder told another tale. The blow from his opponent had popped it out of its socket, knocking out his sword arm in the process.

I pointed my finger towards him in an authoritative manner. I made sure to get Renault's attention.

I exclaimed, "Renault. Pop his shoulder back in place and heal him! We need him back in the fight ASAP...woah!"

I duck just in time for a tree trunk to just barely skim the surface of my hair. My knees popped and sent a wave of pain through my body, but it was much better than the alternative. Sigurne rushes over to my side and lifts me up from the ground as to not expose me to any further danger. Just before hitting the ground, I manage to shoot a glance over at my attacker, who was now searching the area for another projectile to throw at us.

I ordered, "Canas! Erk! Blast the golem that just threw that! He's so busy trying to find another tree that he's let his guard down! Go go go go!"

The two magic users obeyed and started reciting incantations at a cult-like pace. Our only hope in victory rested with them, as our weapons did nothing but break on their tough, stone exterior. I reasoned that even though these golems may be magical, at their core they were still composed of boulders, which were vulnerable to high-velocity, high-impact attacks like magic.

Canas and Erk finished their incantation, and a myriad of different magics erupted from midair. Fire, thunder, and flux magic were all gathered into a singular ball of energy, with what I could only assume equated to several megajoules of energy.

Erk exclaimed, "It's ready! Everybody get down!"

Sigurne threw me towards the ground, while Zelophe dove into a nearby ditch. Renault and Gin scurry for some cover while I cover my ears.

I scream towards Sigurne, "Cover your ears!"

Then, without hesitation, the two magic users laid down their cocktail of magical fury towards the two golems. The attack flew towards them very quickly, and they even didn't have a second to react when the ball of flame, thunder, and flux engulfed their entire bodies.

BOOM!

An explosion shakes the ground, with the noise resembling that of a screeching tornado. Fragments of stone expel in all directions, with a few embedding themselves in my back. I crunch my teeth to force myself quiet, while Sigurne did the same. A cloud of dust befalls on the torn battlefield...

 _Is...it over?_

I rise from the ground, and lend a hand towards Sigurne. Squinting my eyes through the dust, I prayed that I didn't see the two towering silhouettes of our enemies.

I said, "Cough cough! Did...we get them?"

Sigurne replied, "I'm not sure. But...that was quite the fight..."

The fight up to this point had taken about half an hour. Our troops toiled against the might of these two golems, and I knew they desired some rest. I wasn't sure for how much longer we could have maintained our intensity in an engagement like this...but hopefully we finally managed to put the battle away.

A voice pierces through the dusty shroud. It was low and polite...fitting for a knight like Zelophe.

He said, "Lady and gentlemen, I am pleased to say the golems are no more. Nothing remains of them except for a pile of rubble."

The party sighs in relief. The cloud of dust lifts, and we take a moment to look at the opponents that had attacked us unprovoked...

Erk takes a knee and observed a stray shard of rock. It doesn't look any different than any other rock you'd see at the side of the road...which was odd.

He said, "It appears these boulders were sourced locally. There's nothing special about them. Usually, you need a special kind of material to make golems...yet whoever made these creatures were able to make do with common rocks."

Canas nods and adjusts his monocle so he can get a better look.

He said, "Insane. You'd need an enormous amount of mana just to make a serviceable creature of this magnitude."

Gin replied, "That damn thing was nowhere near serviceable. It nearly took my arm off in a single blow..."

Amid our investigation, one thing became frighteningly clear. The being that lived atop this mountain was powerful, likely more so that anything I've faced before. With this at the back of my mind, it unsettles me. I could be leading these good men and woman to their deaths...and for what? Scaling this mountain only benefited me...

I said, "Guys...I need to get something out of my mind."

Zelophe, the apparent leader of the Ilian mercenaries, replied, "Speak your mind."

I said, "It's just that...this expedition might be more dangerous than initially expected. I know we're likely going to have to fight more foes as tough if not tougher than these golems. I...I'm not sure you guys really want to go through this..."

Sigurne replied, "Tactician, are you questioning our loyalty? Or our capacity to fight?"

I said, "It's not that...but I feel like this whole journey was undertaken for my behalf. It doesn't benefit you guys at all, and should one of you lose your life then I don't know if this ordeal will even be worth it."

Erk looks at me with a sorrowful gaze. Canas looks on towards the intimidating mountain before us and then back at me.

I said, "Canas, you have a family. Erk, I'm sure you have people waiting for you back home. As for the rest of you four...I've only just met you. I can't possibly ask you to lay down your lives for me. It's...just not right."

There a moment of pause within the party. The wind blows effortless on my back, with the force slightly reaggravating the wound I had sustained earlier. It just served as another reminder of the great feat we were about to take, and I wasn't sure if I wanted to subject them to that.

Sigurne breaks the silence, "Are you done, tactician?"

I nod my head.

"Yeah..."

She smiles then turns towards the open mountain trail ahead of us. She pointed towards Gin, who was nearby her tent.

She said, "Gin, ready the climbing gear. I have an ice pick in my pack...and make sure to get your shoulder fixed up first."

He snarkily bows in her direction.

"As you wish milady."

She begins coordinating our preparations to scale the mountain. Zelophe and the others follow suit, leaving myself dumbfounded.

I said, "D-Didn't y'all here what I just said? Don't you value your own lives?"

Sigurne smirks.

She said, "My contract with you states we will transport you safely to the summit, and then return you to the village afterward. My loyalty lies with the guild, and as is customary with all Ilian knights I will act within your own best interests with my life. I have no doubt in my mind that we have the capabilities to deal with any threat shown our way...otherwise Commander Zealot would have assigned you more troops."

 _Zealot...that sly fox! He must've scouted out this place a long time ago...what foresight. Here I am thinking he was just a simple opportunistic soul..._

Canas taps my shoulder, and I turn towards him. He and Erk have confident expressions across their faces, and their inner strength was visible for all to see.

Canas said, "We're here for you friend. You might not remember the good times we had...but I do. When you left a part of me felt like I would never see you again. I was delighted beyond comprehension when I first saw you in the village, but now I know there is a demon working to take you away from us again. I...can't allow that to happen. I'm doing this so you can get your old life back...and so that we can enjoy a brighter future."

I was speechless.

Erk added, "Don't forget about me M- I mean Sam! I still owe you for pulling that arrow out of me back in Bern. Besides, who else am I going to talk to about magic theory?"

I replied, "Well, I assume you've got your mentor. Canas also happens to be well-versed with the subject as well."

Erk frowns. He was unamused.

He said, "Shut up and just let me do this for you."

You know...perhaps these guys didn't have anything to gain by climbing this mountain. For the four Ilian mercenaries, their motivations laid within the guild they called their own. The guild was responsible for their very livelihoods, so this journey was indirectly responsible for the enrichment of themselves and any dependents they may have. As for my friends...they had nothing. They were simply doing this off the goodness of their hearts...

Just as friends would.

Coming to this revelation, I hold back a swell of tears pushing against my eyes. I approached the two mages with open arms, and embrace them in a tight hug.

Canas said, "Wah?"

Erk added, "What's going on?"

I said, "Guys...I'm so thankful. I'll make it up to y'all...someday..."

Canas smiled, "Yeah...I'm sure you will..."

Erk smiles as well, "Just...don't trouble yourself too much..."

With newfound confidence, I look at the intimidating mountain before me once more. Amid these steep slopes, treacherous paths, and freezing winds were countless of dangerous enemies. To get past them was all but guaranteed to be difficult...but I didn't care.

For once, I wouldn't be alone.

* * *

 **Summit...**

The lady's face wrinkles with shock, then with disappointment. Not only had that party of seven defeated Geno and Genus, but they also swept through the 3 other guardians she had stationed at varying parts of the mountain. Meath, the master of the sword, was felled with a blow to the head by the party's paladin. The undead dragon that spewed green fire was nothing more than a rotting skeleton at the side of a slope. Fulvio the ice wizard was eliminated with frightening precision, despite the fissure of ice littering the battlefield. All that remained of her 7 guardians was the archer spirit Ton, along with her champion, the ancient Hero Phoen.

"Milady. The enemy has reached Camp 4. Ton is currently preparing to engage them as we speak. Would you like me to assist him?"

The lady and the hero Phoen were alone at Mt. Merki's summit. The lady was anxiously sitting on her stone throne, while her champion was kneeling down respectfully before her. He was a man of antiquated style just like the lady herself, but their respective eras were millennia apart. He came from an era where bronze ruled the battlefield as opposed to iron, steel, or even silver.

Phoen was once an ancient king of Doria, a city-state near present-day Ostia. In an era where the concept of a Lycia was yet to exist, Doria warred frequently with its neighbors, often with the warrior-king Phoen at the front lines. Many men tested his spear then, but none ever succeeded. However, just as he lived by the blade, he died by it as well. A coalition of various city-states had enough Doria's dominance over the region, and thus they challenged Pheon's hegemony over the Marion river.

They outnumbered Doria's forces 8 to 1, but the ferocity and leadership provided by Phoen pushed the warrior-king's forces to stand their ground for three whole days. However, on the fourth day, the advent of magic changed all that. In what became the first recorded use of magic in combat, a Hazzanite disciple managed to fire a proto-flux spell towards the warrior-king, with the blow having a devastating effect. Despite his thick armor and bronze circular shield, the king's flesh was ripped apart with ease. He fell on the battlefield that day, and died later that afternoon. His beloved Doria would capitulate soon after, and no other city in that region would ever re-emerge again as a dominant power until Ostia did so after the Scouring.

Now, centuries into the future here he was. A ghost with a solid body fighting for a master whose name he didn't know. Not that it was in his place to question it. Back in his time, people would always obey their masters...no matter how questionable they may be.

The lady looks down upon her subject with concern, and then with reserved frustration.

She said, "No. I need you to stay here and protect me. Those mountaineers will arrive here by tomorrow...and you and I will need to be together so we can mount a final defense."

Phoen nods, and then retrieved a circular bronze shield he had resting on the ground. The shield had a bright red design on it, which at one point represented the family crest of his dynasty. A dynasty that has since been long-dead.

He said, "As you wish...master."

The lady observes his her champion rose to his feet. They covered in moccasins, which matched the thick bearskin coat over his upper body. His brass helmet obscured his face, though a pair of threatening red eyes were visible. The lady wondered why the man needed such winter gear, as the cold did not affect him or any other of her creations in any way...

In fact, none of them felt any pain.

However...she did.

The lady winces in response to a stinging headache. The pain forces her to hold her head weakly, and Phoen took notice.

He said, "Milady...are you alright? Those headaches of yours have been coming more frequently as of late."

The lady remained speechless. Her mind was entranced within itself...like she was trapped in a never-ending cycle of reliving her past...

 _Honey...I won't let these men take you away...I can't live without you..._

 _Our family...our two children...they need their mother...just as much their father needs you..._

 _I don't care what the human race thinks about you...I only see you as my perfect rose...my other half..._

 _I don't care to what ends I'll have to go to find you again. If it means losing my own humanity...then so be it..._

 _I'll do anything for you, my dear. My beloved Ae-_

"MILADY!"

The lady snaps out of her trance. To her surprise, her back was flat against the rocky floor, with her champion's bearskin jacket laid over her like a blanket. Pheon was standing protectively over her body, with a calm...yet concerned expression over his face.

He said, "Ah...you're awake."

She looks around confused. Earlier, the snow was only coming down in flurries, however now it was much more ferocious.

She asked, "The storm...it picked up."

Pheon replied, "You were asleep, for one whole day. I'd best get ready."

"Ready for what?"

He shifts his gaze away and towards the mountain path below. Squinting his eyes through the snow cover, he sees 7 silhouettes of foreign nature. He grits his teeth. His worst fears have been realized. Not only had these adventures bested the 6 other guardians of Mt. Merki, but they've also managed to do so without losing a single man. Such a feat was the ultimate display of strength...but regardless he grips his kingly spear tight. There was only one thing to do now. He had to do his duty. His whole purpose in this world of an unfamiliar era.

The lady nearly gasped when she heard her champion's next words. All he needed were two.

He said, "They're here."

* * *

 **A/N: Just going to talk a little bit here. You can go ahead and do other stuff if you're not interested...but I wanna go ahead and get this out my chest. Consider this, a mini Addendum.**

 **A lot of the stuff I write is 100% original. As a general rule, I try to avoid reading other fanfiction so that I don't sublimely put ideas that don't belong to me in my work. This is mostly because I feel like a lot of the community usually follows the same formula when comes to stories like these. Usually, Mark would be a borderline Gary Stu with enormous power, and although I don't that's a bad idea, my main problem with that is after the initial power spike the story would fall flat. Just think about all the stories you've skimmed over to get the good parts, and that's what I'm trying to avoid here. I'm more in the camp that likes systematic growth and relationship development, which I believe ultimately results in a better overall reading experience.**

 **On a different note, I think this story kinda falls under the umbrella of an isekai. For non-anime watchers, those are stories that involve a normal human being from our society being sent to a fantastic new world, which given the tropes usually makes him overpowered and involved in a harem with multiple beautiful women. I think that's pretty funny in some scenarios, but again I try to highlight the realism in this engagement in this story. Real-life couples fight, even in the most cordial of relationships...and Sam should too in his.**

 **Finally, another thing I really enjoy about this story is world-building. For writers in our community, we quickly find out there's a lot of information to work with...but there's also a lot emitted. Some can interpret this as a problem, but for me I view this as an opportunity. I take what given and mold environments out of that. I feel like this is something isekai's in general have been shying away from, and had they not I think the genre would be a lot better than it is now. There are too many stories that follow the same generic formula, so I made it my mission to avoid that where I can.**

 **That's all, I hope y'all have a nice day!**


	43. Summit

**Chapter 39: Summit**

 **By SodiumChloride12, derived from Fire Emblem, owned by Nintendo.**

 **A/N: I tried sitting down this week to write next week's chapter for my other fic...but I just couldn't do it. My mind was too preoccupied with what I wanted to do here, so I decided to just keep writing for this fic and to put the other one on hiatus. I'll probably get back to it when the final DLC comes out in a couple of years, but this fic will be long done by then. Heck, I might even be able to pen together a sequel in that amount of time.**

 **This LONG chapter will end the Mt. Merki arc. After this will be the Rehabilitation arc, which will be 3-4 chapters. AFTER that, the intermediate period will end, and we'll be returning to the original storyline. Well, kinda. Y'all know how I take liberty with plot points.**

 **As usual, thanks for taking time out of your day to read this. I usually average about 6-7 hours (though this chapter took about 9 hours of my time) a week writing these, though most of that time is used during the bus ride to and from university. Any feedback is appreciated, even if it's just a shitpost. Have a nice day!**

 **N: Samuel and company continue their trek up Mt. Merki. However, we backtrack a couple millennia in the past to observe a story involving a fallen hero. A hero-king, who was faced with a decision to save his nation at a price.**

* * *

Every person regardless of their origins, motivations, or ancestry have their own stories. Some, like the common peasant, may have nothing of note to speak of except for a lifetime of backbreaking agricultural work. Others, like the Bernish pirate, may have a lifetime of fighting and adventure...even if it is short. Most of the time these stories don't amount to much; neither the pirate nor the farmer will be remembered in history. However, whether it be by choice or chance, sometimes people get the opportunity to make their mark on the world. These people are often remembered as kings, generals, saints, or other titles of significant regard. One of these people was a common boy named Arvid, who was presented with an opportunity to bring peace to his troubled land.

About a century before the events of the Scouring, Arvid's homeland of Fibernia was under threat of invasion. It came in the form of mysterious "sea people", a group of sea-faring, tanned skin men and women from an unknown homeland. They all wielded silver weaponry, which up to that point was unused among contemporaries in Elibe...and vastly bested any arms the Fibernian nation had. Thus, they squashed any resistance its people tried to muster, and they began to carve up the island starting with the southern baronies.

One thing to note was that despite this technological disadvantage, Fibernia still had a numerical advantage. They outnumbered the invaders 1 to 10, but this could not be used to its fullest extent. At that time Fibernia was not united but had a similar situation to Lycia. Dozens of baronies squabbled for power, but none ever received an advantage over the other. Without a united front against the sea people, the latter were able to divide and conquer. Within a decade the entire southern half of the island was under the sea people's united control, with the capitulation of the northern baronies imminent.

Arvid along with his twin brother Nicholas were orphans living in the northern barony of Cornwall. They lived in an orphanage that was run by the fledgling Hazzanite church and was of common blood. Within the turmoil of recent years, the brothers learned to rely on each other and cared for each other deeply. As they grew older, both of the brothers became well-versed in the ways of elder magic, and they left the orphanage to join Baron Cornwall's army in defense of their homeland.

The armies of the invaders and of the Baron met on a flat plain some 50 miles from the capital. The battle was epic and bloody...but most of the details were lost to history. What was known was that the Baron and most of the other local nobility were killed, and the army was routed. What remained of the Baron's forced fled for the capital, and it was there that they hoped to make their last stand.

The brothers barely made it out with their lives. Despite putting together an amazing individual effort where they were able to neutralize an entire company of the enemy...the outcome of the battle forced them to retreat. They fled with the others to the safety of the capital...but even they knew that status was temporary. The day would soon come when the invaders would return...and they'd sack the city with no hesitation. The few hundred troops that guarded the capital were anxious...and the atmosphere matched that attitude.

Nicholas kept a level head, but Arvid could not. The latter fled in a fit of desperation, and he went to the city's cathedral to pray to his god. There he stayed in a prose position for over a week and did not move, not even to eat, drink, or sleep. Even while the city around him scurried in an effort to prepare for the final battle...he continued praying. Not even his brother could convince him to move, and eventually, he was left to his own devices.

Despite the indoctrination fed to him by the orphanage, he did not believe in the Hazzanite god. However, in this time of need, he couldn't see any other being capable of helping his country besides that creator. But...his newfound piety would prove to be in vain. His god seemed unable or unwilling to help him in his plight...and the week without food or sustenance took its toll on Arvid's body. His body grew weaker while his mind remained firm, but by week's end, Arvid had passed unconsciously on the cathedral's floor.

What happened next was uncertain. Some say Arvid received a comatose dream from the Creator himself...while others claim this was nothing but a ploy initiated by the devil. However, by the time Arvid came awoke he was a changed man. His personality shifted into a more colder, albeit recognizable version of itself. His green eyes changed to where his right eye took on a shade of gold, and his skin took on a clammy undertone. This was not a detail lost on Nicholas...but he continued on supporting his twin brother nonetheless. Not even when it became apparent that he'd soon become a monster.

When the day of reckoning came, Arvid wielded ferocious magic. His dark magic tore through the enemy lines like paper, and no man could hope to approach him. His newfound green flames also wreaked havoc against the enemy forces, which proved to be the first time anima magic was ever used in Elibe. With their newfound general and leader, the fledgling forces of the capital repelled the attack with ease...and soon after were able to expel the rest of the invading army's forces out of Cornwall. Afterward, Arvid was exalted by his troops as the newfound Baron of Cornwall, and he was wed to the last remaining daughter of the old baron; Sarah. Within months Arvid, along with his brother, was able to secure their rule of the Barony and soon focused their efforts on uniting the last remaining baronies under one ruler.

The last baronies did not want to submit to Arvid's demands, but they were also aware of what happened to their peers down south. Alone, no barony save for Cornwall had been able to repel the enemy on their own accord...and the power exhibited by Cornwall's new baron was inviting. Thus, they allowed this baron of questionable origins to become their new king, and together united they under a new banner, the banner of a united kingdom of Fibernia.

King Arvid worked fast and efficiently, and he swept through the southern lands. The sheer firepower brought by him alone was able to destroy any enemy army in his wake, and it inspired the Fibernian majority that resided within these occupied territories to revolt against their foreign overlords. By the end of the first month of the war, much of the southern lands had capitulated, and by the New Year, the entirety of the island was under the control of the kingdom. The people rejoiced at the advent of their newfound freedom, and Arvid was exalted as the hero-king of this new nation. With this earned trust in his leadership, Arvid was able to set up a new government to replace the convoluted mess of the former baronies with himself as King, and Nicholas as the new Great Hazzan.

The next few years were prosperous. Effective administration coupled with a period of great harvests led to fed peasants and wealthy lords, and this did well for his approval among his people. However, as the years went by...Arvid began to change, more so than he had before. It started when he stopped going to church, and then soon after his personality turned even colder. He would snap at any individual that rubbed him the wrong way, and the council around him began to fear their hero-king. Especially uncharacteristic was when he fell into a bitter argument with his twin brother...which was the first time he'd ever done so. Their king was morphing into a version of himself that was more ferocious and vile than the original...and had Arvid's council recognized this as the red flag that it was...perhaps the reign of terror to come would have been avoided.

Arvid became paranoid towards those around him. At first, it started with his own ministers, but then it extended to his wife...and even his own twin brother. The darkness in his heart began to encapsulate his whole being...and one day...he finally lost it. His sanity seemingly vanished into thin air, and Arthur was no longer Arvid. He was now Azazel, the Demon King.

The first thing Azazel did was to eliminate any potential usurpers to his power, and he sent assassins throughout the kingdom to make it so. The assassins methodically killed the majority of the unsuspecting nobility, with the rest either escaping or disappearing. Among these hunted were Nicholas along with Arthur's wife and infant daughter, but luckily they were among the few that survived. Nicholas had expected that his crazed brother would attempt to end their lives, so he had orchestrated a plot to fake his and the others' deaths. So with his brother none the wiser, Nicholas along with Sarah and her daughter escaped to Etruria aboard a pirate ship. In order to protect their identities the trio would live amongst the peasanty, and Nicholas would marry Sarah to claim her daughter as his own. They'd live in peace for the rest of their lives...though one of their descendants would eventually marry into what would become the House of Reglay.

As for Azazel, his reign of terror quickly escalated. Without the nobility that had provided him effective governance, lawlessness engulfed the nation. Brigands roamed the countryside, pirates raided the coast, and knights took to banditry since their paychecks were no longer guaranteed by the now-defunct lords. A plague began making short work of the Fibernian population, and on top of that the years of good harvests finally came to an end, with an unusually wet season ruining much of the crops. Strife soon engulfed the nation, and the Demon King dealt with it the only way he saw fit...

Death squads swarmed through the nation of Fibernia, and they cut down any person they deemed a threat to the Crown. They burned whole villages, ransacked farms, and killed entire families. No part of Fibernian society went unscathed, and everyone knew someone that had died either due to neglectful food management, disease or the death squads. This contempt for the situation morphed into hatred for the King, and rumors of revolt followed. Rumors became open discussion, which became protests, and ultimately open hostilities. The people were fed up with their King, and after a single battle, they overwhelmed the tyrant's forces in combat. Azazel afterward retreated to his castle for a last stand...but none of his troops wanted anything to do with him anymore. They left the young royal to his fate, and he was slain at the very throne that he accepted his crown three years ago.

That ended the tale of Azazel, and of Arvid. A man who simply wanted to protect his people became the source of so much suffering towards them, and the pain he inflicted on the people of Fibernia would be felt for centuries to come. The power vacuum created by the vacant noble eventually led to the nation losing its independence, and Arvid's name became an insult among his people. However, the name they remembered him by was not Arvid...that name had faded away with the sands of time.

They remembered him by the name he gave himself...and the one they learned to loathe. That of...Azazel the Demon King.

* * *

 **Summit...**

The wind blows against my body with force, and it felt like dozens of tiny needles pushing against my skin. The sun was nowhere the be seen in the sky, and thick black clouds obsured the wide open expanse above. My boots were heavy with snow and ice, with my feet helpless against the seeping moisture.

The harness I wore from our climb was still fixated on my chest...but I was reluctant to take it off. The padded straps provided added protection to my chest and upper body, which ended up being helpful when it came to braving dragon fire, cuts, or ice magic. It also proved convenient not having to put it back on when I had to hook up with Zelophe during climbs, which was often during our journey thus far.

I've had to rely on our paladin to scale these steep inclines that were common on this mountain. My lack of a hand has reduced me to being dragged upwards to the top by this strong fellow, with no other feasible alternatives. Admittedly, treatment like this did feel a little dehumanizing...but I'll just have to deal with it. This was my life now...and it was because of a decision I hold no regrets over...

Canas looks at me with a hood drenched in ice and snow. His nose was red, and his body shivers. Despite the obvious discomfort he was in, he still manages to muster a smile, and he spoke with a clear tone.

He said, "I think we're almost at the summit. It's...getting harder to breathe."

Canas, along with everybody else on this journey, was beginning to suffer through the effects of hypoxia. Hypoxia is a condition brought upon by oxygen deprivation, which was due to the lower levels of oxygen at higher altitudes. We should have started feeling dizzy a few thousand feet ago, but prior to this journey, Niime had given us a spell that allowed for our bodies to better acclimate to Merki's elevation. The spell was very effective in allowing us to survive up here...but even then it still has its limits. Now that we're nearing the summit, everyone was starting to feel woozy and tired...and I surmised we couldn't survive long here. Couple that with the terrible winds along with the coldest weather I've ever been subject to in my life, I predicted we could survive for about half an hour until we would have to make our way back to the lower camp.

I said, "Just a bit longer Canas…we can't be far now"

As for the state of our troops, luckily we were rather healthy at the moment. Renault had done a good job in treating our wounds, though for the most part, I had escaped our past engagements unscathed. Our morale was good, and our spirits were high. Nothing could seemingly stop us from finally reaching the summit...which was starting to come to view.

We turn the corner and come across a clearing. There was a wide-open field of stone and a few boulders, but otherwise, there were no obstructions. The lack of a mountain face meant that there was now nothing protecting us from the full might of the elements, and the temperature dropped even further. The snow was thicker now, so much so that I could only see for a few yards ahead. However, I noticed the silhouettes of what appears to be a throne flanked by two humanoid figures...and my heart sank.

 _There's two of them...I think one of them is the goddess. The other must be her retainers...and he's big too. Way bigger than anyone else we've fought against thus far save for the dragon. We'll have to be cautious...I don't know what we'll be up against if we have to fight._

Zelophe stops and motions for the line to follow his lead. He readies his shield and shouts through the snow.

"Hello! We are travelers wishing to speak with the goddess that lives atop this mountain. Can you do us the honor of sparing a moment of you-"

A deep, rough voice cuts him off.

He said, "We know why you're here. You all are not welcome. Leave immediately if you value your own lives."

Zelophe shakes his head, "I'm afraid we've already been through too much to do that. We do not wish to instigate any conflict if it's unnecessary. All we want to do is talk. We have a man here that needs some of her help to quell a demon."

Suddenly, a strong voice snaps at the paladin. It sounded feminine in nature and sounded strikingly similar in tone to Sothis.

"Outrageous. The demon that inhabits that man is toying with you. His evil is...unspeakable. I can't allow a being of that nature anywhere near me. I consider any person that sees him as an ally...my enemy. If it is my power that you seek...then prepare yourselves. You may have bested the rest of my guardians, but my champion and I are much more powerful."

Zelophe rolls back onto the balls of his feet. Sigurne tightened the grip on her lance, and Gin unsheathes his sword. Erk and Canas take out their tomes of flux and flame magic with shivering hands. Renault readies his posture, and I try to get a better look at our apparent enemies through a pair of cracked binoculars.

I said, "Zelophe...what do we do? Do we go ahead and attack them?"

Zelophe nodded, "Yes. Diplomacy has failed, so now we have to resort to force. Refrain from harming the goddess, however. We need her."

Gin asked, "What about her champion? Is he fair game?"

I replied, "Yeah. If fighting the other guardians taught me anything, it's that these guys won't hold back. I don't want to lose anybody, and I'd feel better about going into this fight if I know y'all will give your all."

I take out my pocket watch and read the time. It was seven past noon, and my friends started feeling woozy around noon. That gave us less than half an hour to work with...which didn't sit well with me. This battle will pose an interesting problem for me. Thus far, I'd always had to outwit my opponent by taking advantage of the terrain or relying on the experience of my troops. However, I've never had to do so while on the clock with time fighting against me just a well as the enemy will. I'll have to be cautious while being aggressive...that's going to be the only way we can win.

I look back at the allies that have done so much for me. They were cold, tired, and short for breath. However, their motivated hearts raged with fury, and I knew nothing could stand in our way.

I said, "Friends, I'll have to ask a little bit more from you today. We only have about twenty minutes to deal with this threat. Are y'all up for it?"

Sigurne nodded confidently. Her face was devoid of expression, and the tips of her hair were frozen together.

She said, "It will be done. On my honor as an Ilian knight."

Gin rolls his eyes, and sarcastically remarked, "Can you be any less emotional you blue-haired brat?"

Zelophe ignores Gin's loose tongue and saluted before us all.

"By accordance with my contract, I will not fail."

Erk and Canas shiver underneath their thick robes but nevertheless manage to squeak out a weak thumbs up.

They said, "You have our support. We'll smother the enemy in a whirlwind of fire and flux."

I smile, then confidently draw my red dagger. I point it towards our two enemies shrouded in snow...and scream at the top of my lungs.

"ATTACK!"

* * *

Pheon looks at the rapidly approaching enemy with an unwavering gaze. His bronze shield was rapidly turning blue with cold, with the frost starting to freeze his fingers together. However, this didn't bother the Hellenic warrior one bit. A true man of Doria lives for moments like these. Stoutly outnumbered and out armed, all while being subject to a frigid hellscape. His religion preached that situations like these were akin to paradise...which was a detail he found particularly pleasing. He relished a good fight...especially ones where it was clear he held a disadvantage.

Pheon said, "They're approaching milady."

The lady frowns, then creates a ball of ice magic from her fingertips. She kept it at the ready for when she knew she had a clear shot. Unfortunately, her many years of existence have kept her mana reserves anxiously finite. She couldn't afford to waste her magic on inaccurate volleys.

Pheon added, "Let me deal with them. You stay back and try to assist when you can. Should the time come...don't hesitate to use your secret weapon."

The lady nods but doesn't say anything. Words weren't needed to understand what he meant...

"HWUUAGH!"

Pheon bent his knees and takes a superhuman leap towards the group of seven. He flies through the air like a bird would...but he fell back to earth with a crash. When he landed he cracked the face of the mountain itself, much to the surprise of his opponents.

Pheon doesn't hesitate. He grips his spear and chucks it at the strongest looking mercenary he could find, being the paladin Zelophe.

"Ack!"

Zelophe's arm kicks back as his shield struggles to deal with the sheer force behind the bronze spear. The iron shield obliterated into thousands of pieces, and the paladin falls onto the floor. The spear had effortlessly embedded itself into his shoulder.

Sigurne gets a panicked look in her eyes. Her usually calm, professional demeanor deteriorated into one of fear after seeing Zelophe being felled so quickly. She stands there still, too entranced in anxiety to do anything.

Samuel said, "Rally around me! Renault, treat Zelophe's wounds! Stick together, he can't beat all of us!"

Pheon smirks. An old opponent of his had said something similar when the battle quickly began going for worse. He was calm, knowledgeable, and honorable. He surely would've made a good advisor in his war council...it was a shame he killed him.

He drew the short sword he had as a backup weapon. If his many years of warfare had taught him anything, it was that the best way to win a fight is by dealing with an army's commander first. So, he lunged towards the man he presumed as the group's leader...which was none other than Samuel himself.

"ARGHHH!"

Surprised, Samuel barely manages to dodge the ancient king's attack, with the blade just cutting the hair on his head. However, just as he thought he could escape, he rolls back on his heels and hurts his ankle. He falls towards the ground defenseless and writhing in pain.

Pheon raised his blade to deliver the finishing blow, but before he could do so he was forced to raise up his shield defensively. A fireball encases the metal barrier between him and sure death, with the heat searing into the warrior's skin. In a bid to save himself he throws the shield onto the ground; otherwise, the heat would have dissolved the very bones in his body.

 _Damnit._

Pheon cursed at himself for having chosen to fight against mages. The rapid temperature difference between the spell and the frigid enviroment had warped his bronze shield dramatically, and now the bronze handle had warped into the body of the shield, making it unusable. Without his shield and spear, the firepower he once wielded was now severely gutted. He felt vulnerable just having his shield...and he instinctively looked towards his master...

 _Oh...I see..._

He grits his teeth. He realizes there was nothing in front of him but the raging storm along with the solitary stone throne. No goddess...and now that he thought about it there was no tactician either. Just six men and women of the original seven remained.

The group seemed to have noticed as well. A girl with blue hair charges at Pheon, with a pissed-off expression on her face. Her spear clashes with Pheon's sword, and the ancient warrior was surprised by the astounding amount of force behind the blow.

She said, "Where the hell did my client go? Tell me!"

He smirks. He knew exactly where he was. He was in a place far away from here, in a realm that knows no bounds. A place out of reach of mere mortals like them.

He said, "Heh...it seems like my master went ahead a used her secret weapon. Neither I nor you can touch them now."

A fireball narrowly flies over his head and explodes on a nearby boulder. Shards of rock fly everywhere, with some fragments bouncing off the surface of Pheon's bronze armor.

Erk said, "What do you mean?! Quit with your riddles fool!"

Pheon replied, "Well, let's just say likelihood of you seeing your friend again rests entirely on my master's hands. Nobody but she can control what happens in that realm."

Canas hesitates and lowers his flux tome from his body.

He asked, "Realm? What realm?"

Pheon looks at him, then laughs.

"I'm referring to the place in between heaven and hell. The place where chaos reigns, and where demons are born. It's a place covered with nothing but shrill, cold darkness. You may have read of it before in your ancient texts acolyte...it's called..."

"The void..."

* * *

 **...?**

I open my eyes and see an endless void of black numbness. No stars, no mountains...not even the characteristic chill of the Ilian winter. I feel nothing on my body, and the temperature was neither warm nor cold. There was no pain either...though my mind was cloudy in what I was beginning to perceive as a hazy state. Looking around I realize I was still wearing my clothes of old...but no frost was to be seen. In fact, there was no evidence I had ever been atop the summit of Mt. Merki.

 _Where...am I?_

I think that, but I'm beginning to realize where I was. I've been here before, many times in fact. It was a place I've been to many times in my dreams, though I've never done so while conscious. Where else could I be...except the void?

 _How...did I get here?_

 _Was I knocked out? No, that's not possible. I ran towards the goddess because I thought I could force a conversation...but I got shot with some weird magic...now that I think about it..._

Recent memories flood my mind. I remember the goddess' eyes turning an eerie purple, and her tongue speaking some weird incantation. It was in a language I've never heard of before...not even among the three I have nominal knowledge over. A black, almost amorphous hand extended from her fingertips and grabbed me...but that's all I could remember.

My back was flat against the pitch-black floor, and I pushed against it to stand up. Other than the hard floor, there were no other barriers around, so I took the opportunity to wander. Wander through what I could only assume to be endless nothingness.

Minutes pass, then hours. Or...did they? I had no way to know for sure, my pocket watch had frozen when I was transported to this world. I couldn't even use my hunger to gauge approximately how much time had passed...but I continued on regardless. The only way to go was forward...but I had no compass to guide my path. In all honesty, I wondered through this expanse blindly, hoping on the off chance that I'd run into something...

 **...**

After what felt like an eternity...I did run into something. Hidden within the endless ocean of black was a lone door, whose brass handle was glowing like a solitary candle. Desperate for a way out, I approach the door and turn the handle, uncaring for whatever danger may lurk on the other end.

Unfortunately, nothing laid on the other end besides unforgiving darkness. I frown and begin to close the door to continue on my way...but the door doesn't budge. I apply more force, but the door stayed fixated against its hinge.

 _What...the hell is going on?!_

Suddenly, a light emerges from within the door. It reveals a small room...with a single wooden stool standing on a cool cobblestone floor. I roll my eyes at this clear invitation for me to sit...and turn around to leave...

"Hey! Get back here! Can't you see I'm trying to give you a chair!"

My eyes widen in shock. That voice...I could recognize it anywhere. I almost didn't recognize it because I hadn't heard it in so long...

It continued, "Hurry up and get in here! You can't let _him_ see you!"

Confused, I asked, "Him? Whose him?"

Just as I finish my sentence, a small hand grabs me by the scruff of my collar. It pulls me into the solitary room, and I heard the door slam behind me. I fall onto the ground with ease, but I barely manage to land underneath my kidnapper as to cushion any damage to her.

Resting on the floor I felt a small, child-like body press against my chest. I squint my eyes and just barely make out a familiar pair of green eyes.

I said, "Sothis?!"

She smiles, then wrapped her arms around me in a tight hug. Astonished beyond belief, I reciprocated.

She said, "Yeah, it's me. A lot has happened between the times we last met. How are you doing?"

I...can't believe this was real. I was holding my friend, my savior in my own arms. It's been so long since I'd been blessed with this little girl's hugs...and honestly, I didn't want to let go. However, I knew I couldn't linger long. There were some questions that I needed answered.

I replied, "I'm doing pretty good right now...but I should be asking the same of you. Your protection over me ended at the end of the month, and when I couldn't hear your voice I grew worried. Has Azazel harassed you at all?"

Sothis shook her head, then lifted herself from the ground. I follow suit, and she continues on.

"No...but I barely managed to escape here before I fell back to sleep. This place is my safe room...I'm sure you're wondering about that too."

She claps her hands, and a pair of lightbulbs from the ceiling coat the room with a veil of light. Her room was a simple dwelling, with a single bed, a small library of books, and other furnishings. Her clothes were neatly folded on her sofa, although some of her socks were resting on the red carpet underneath. Strangely enough, in front of this sofa was a box with a glass pane...a TV?!

My eyes bulge, and the green goddess couldn't keep herself from laughing. She gracefully pranced over to her sofa and digs out a small remote underneath the cushions. She pressed a red power button located on the device.

She said, "Oh my, don't you look pleasantly surprised? Just wait, you haven't seen anything yet!"

The TV turns on, but instead of dwelling into some program, it burrows into a world of white noise. Sothis' face turns red with embarrassment from having botched her attempt to be fancy.

She said, "Erm...it appears I didn't put anything in the VCR. I think I have the console plugged in...can you turn it on for me?"

I wave my arms spastically and looked at Sothis with a confused expression.

"Sothis! What's going on here?!"

She rolls her eyes and lazily points towards the console underneath the TV. I nearly faint when I realize what it was.

A GameCube. A f*ing GAMECUBE?!

She replied, "Hurry up and turn it on. Everything will make sense later."

Too shocked to answer, I eased myself towards Sothis' sofa and fall onto its cushions. My gaze is too fixated towards this futuristic yet antiquated piece of technology to notice Sothis had already turned it on. The television screen explodes with life, and triumphant music plays. I don't even know what to believe anymore when my eyes notice a human hand throw a static red-hatted plumber into the air. It landed onto an empty coliseum, and the light started to encapsulate the soles of its feet.

 _Super Smash Brothers...my favorite game growing up. I've spent years playing this thing when I was younger..._

Sothis smirks and threw a controller on my lap.

She said, "Beat me in a game and I'll think about telling you everything."

I look back at her with horror.

"You've got to be kidding me."

Sothis laughs and manipulated the game screen to the character select. She locks in on a yellow mouse with red cheeks, with nothing but confidence emitting from her body.

"Three stocks on final destination with no items. I've had nothing but bots to feast on thus far...and I'm hungry for a challenge..."

* * *

Sothis looks away from me with a distasteful expression across her face. She silently turned off the console...all while murmuring to herself. Her head was hung with shame, and I tried not to gloat at her expense.

"How...how did I lose to Jigglypuff? All my training...all my time spent."

I replied, "I'm not going to lie, you're fairly technical as a player. However, you have zero knowledge of the current meta. Only one championship has ever been won with your character thus far; mine has won several."

Sothis pouts then sits down next to me on her sofa.

She said, "I hate this game."

I punched her softly on the shoulder and tease her.

I said, "Nah. You're just bad."

Sothis' right eye twitched with annoyance. She balled up her fists and punches me square in the face.

"Ow!"

My head rocks back, but despite the clear force behind her fist, it didn't hurt. The cross goddess points her finger at my chest, and she scolded me.

She said, "I am most certainly not _bad_ _._ You, however, have misinterpreted your place young homunculus."

I replied, "Hey, I'm just saying it how it is. Just tell me what's going on now."

Sothis nods at my request and hands me a handkerchief. I take it graciously.

I said, "Erm...what is this for?"

She replied, "It's for your nose. You're bleeding and I don't want you to stain my sofa."

 _Bleeding? I can't be bleeding..._

But I was bleeding. I just hadn't felt it because in this world pain was nonexistent. I stuff the cloth up my nose just a drip of crimson began to drip towards the floor.

Sothis said, "Alright, I'll go ahead and tell you what's going on. I'm sure your familiar with this place right? Some call it the abyss, others say this is Limbo, but most have settled on naming this place the void."

I asked, "The void?"

She nods, "Yeah. On earth, there are three realms. The first is the material world we're all familiar with, which we can call the natural realm. The second is the spiritual realm, which houses the afterlife. The last is the void, which is a dimension of pure concentrated magic. The void is the source of all magic in the natural realm, with its vast reservoir able to be tapped by use of tomes and a mage's own mana."

Sothis notices the shocked expression across my face. This was a lot of information to take at once, especially one as groundbreaking as this.

I asked, "Wait, so you're meaning to tell me that all this time I've been crossing into another realm regularly without even noticing?"

Sothis nodded, "Indeed...but I find it odd how you were able to do it. Only certain spirits are able to traverse between the three worlds at a whim; this is actually how magic is utilized in the natural world. Black magic practitioners send some of their soul to the void when they cast spells, however, this realm has a tendency to corrupt souls when the two are in direct contact. This results in a spell that's on average more time powerful than an anima or light counterpart, at the cost of the caster's ever-diminishing sanity. Anima mages get around this by using certain anima spirits as a middle man, while light gets by with some other medium."

I asked, "What do light acolytes use? They claim to be wielding the power of the great Creator...but I'm not sure."

Sothis shrugged her shoulders, "Beats me. However, for some reason, you have the ability to access the void without much consequence. Sure, you don't seem able to control it...but it's interesting nonetheless. You have special dreams, Samuel."

Thus far, all of my trips to the void have been by way of dreaming. I wasn't sure how I came about this ability...but I'm certain it has something to do with Azazel. It's got to...

Sothis grabbed her idle controller and puts it away.

She continued, "The console came from your memories. Since I live inside your consciousness, I was able to access your memories and take some interesting things from them. I think your consciousness dwells within a subspace within the void, thus explaining why I was able to generate this along with some other things in my free time."

Flabbergasted, I replied, "What?!"

Sothis sighed, "Ok, think of your consciousness and the natural world as three separate rooms of varying size. Your body lives inside the natural world, while your consciousness lives inside you. Your consciousness is a room inside a house, being your body, which is inside a bigger house; the natural world. However, your consciousness also has the ability to move to another house at random, with this house being the void. Everything inside your consciousness goes with you, including me and Azazel. In short, you somehow have the ability to travel in between the void and the natural world...though you can't control it."

"Does that make any sense?"

I shrugged my shoulders, "I guess...kinda."

Sothis rolls her eyes.

"Well, I didn't expect you to understand everything at once. Right now just understand that we're in a new world...and the only way you can get out is by the way you came. Since you can't control your power...we'll have to find the person that sent you here and somehow convince her to send you back."

Sothis smiles then flips on the TV again. On the screen was an electronic map, with various lights and arbitrary signals on it.

I asked, "What's that?"

She replied, "It's a map of the nearby area. I've rigged this device to detect any external entities in the area...and it just so happens that I see two just a short journey away. It's a good thing this safe house inhabits a subspace within the void...otherwise, we'd likely have been found out already."

"Subspace?"

Sothis said, "Just shut up and take the dagger I have underneath my pillow. If one of these entities is what I think they are, then I think we may have an opportunity to deal with that demon problem of ours..."

"After all...death is resolute in the void. If we can rid of the demon here...we'll never have to worry about him again."

* * *

My feet hit the ground softly, and the grass brushed against the soles of my feet. A warm breeze blew through the air, but no birds graced the skies. The rhythmic hum of a subspace portal was vibrating right behind me, with Sothis not far behind.

 _Woah..._

I look at the enviroment before me, and the scene was breathtaking. Gone was the resolute black of the void, and in its place was a castle fit for a king. A long, thick stone wall towered over me, but no solider manned their respective towers. There was no guard at the front gate, and although water flows through the moat; the algae that should've inhabited it was nowhere to be seen. The castle was atop of a solitary hill, with a village living underneath its shadow...but no people dwelled within the countless homes. There was no life to speak of...save for me.

It was a surreal sight, and I could've spent hours pondering how this was the case. However, any attempt in doing that was squandered by the green goddess barreling through the subspace portal behind me.

"COMING THROUGH!"

Thud.

"Oof!"

Sothis rammed her shoulder into my back, knocking me into the ground. Although due to her small body it didn't hurt...it was still annoying.

"I'd think you'd be better at traveling through portals than I am. I'm starting to think you're trying to hit me on purpose."

Sothis' face turns red, and the green goddess jumped onto her own two feet.

She said, "Hit on you? By the gods...that's beyond ridiculous Samuel!"

I gestured my hands in what could only be interpreted as "What? Really...?"

I said, "No...that's not what I said..."

Sothis wouldn't have it. Despite my pleas for her to calm down, she flattened out her palm and...slaps the back of my head.

"Come on! Was that really necessary?!"

 _Insane. This whole scenario is insane. Sothis really is just trying to find excuses to hit me._

Sothis said, "Yes...but that's not important right now. Get your head in the game Samuel...the two entities in question are inside that castle right now. I'm not sure where they are though, they could be anywhere. We should start with the throne room first...if we can't find them there then we can check the balcony..."

BOOM!

Unexpectedly, an explosion reduces a spire atop the castle into dust. Green flames spewed into the air, and I instinctively tackle the green goddess to the ground. The noise created by the detonation was so forceful that the resulting shockwave blew out my eardrums, and I was left hearing nothing but a numb ring.

"S-"

"Samu-"

"Samuel!"

The ringing subsided, and I was finally able to clearly hear what Sothis was saying to me. Looking at her I noticed that besides her roughed-up hair and clothing, she was otherwise fine. As for myself..the explosion shook something within me...and I'd be lying if it didn't effect me subconsciously.

I said, "I'm fine...just a little shaken up. I think we know where to go now."

Sothis looks back at the debris caused by the explosion. It had created a large hole by the after-mentioned spire, and she could feel the large amounts of mana flowing through it. The pure unaltered magic was nauseating...but she held her tongue.

She replied, "Yeah...I think we do. Get ready. We don't know what we can expect."

* * *

We eventually made our way to the damaged spire, and I quickly find out that the area served as the castle's chapel. The once dull cobblestone floors were now littered with rubble from the ceiling, and the wooden pews were nothing but ash. The candles that once lit up this otherwise dark space had extinguished, with their waxy remains staining the black carpet underneath. Beautiful stain-glass windows were now just vibrant shards on the dusty interior, having just been reduced to a shadow of their former selves. Sothis and I look at this scene in horror and curious bewilderment, and we wondered just who could be responsible for a mess like this.

My eyes wander to small hand lying underneath a pile of broken stone, glass, and other rubble. It had a luminous light to it, along with a chilling amount of blood.

Sothis said somberly, "Oh no...who could this belong to? Death in the void is absolute, and any souls lost will be absorbed into the void with no possibility of returning to the spirit realm. We should try to help this person...their death may still be prevented."

 **...**

Sothis said, "Oh my...this...this can't be."

Amid the cleared rubble was what appeared to be a mangled, severely burned corpse. There was no way to identify this body...had it not been for one distinguishing feature. Atop her head of blackened hair...was one singular strand of blue.

 _By the gods...the goddess...she's..._

Sothis squealed and takes a step back. Her face was wrought with panic, and her finger was pointed towards the corpse.

"Samuel! She's still moving!"

Her body was still, but her lips were mouthing words. They were too soft to hear from this distance, so I took a knee and brought my ear closer. Her voice was quivering in fear, but I somehow managed to make out a single word.

"Run."

Just as she spoke those words, she closed her mouth...never to open it again. She was dead...and soon after her body began to dematerialize into light...decomposing into nothingness.

Sothis said, "Who...who could be responsible for this? Samuel...how are you going to get out of here?"

I break into a cold sweat.

"I...I don't know."

That, however, was the least of our problems.

"Muwahahaha…"

An eerie laugh breaks through the silence of the ruined chapel. My heart sank when I heard it...because I had bore witness to it many times over. Untampered evil like that only belonged to one person...

Azazel.

I said, "Sothis...get behind me."

Sothis turns back at me, and then back towards the tabernacle located at the far end of the chapel. Her pupils shot open in horror.

She said, "W-What are you doing here?!"

Azazel lurked by the tabernacle with disdain in his eyes. He was a mirror image of myself, with similar clothing and all. The only noticeable difference was the dark magic emitting from his body, along with a pair of sinister-looking golden eyes. He looked upon us like we were pests to be dealt with...and his hands were drenched in a green magical flame.

 _Those flames...they're the same that reduced Lyn's village to cinders..._

Azazel gives us a devilish smile.

He said, "My my...what do we have here. Two cumbersome pests that need to be exterminated. You two have been the single greatest obstacle between me and my return to ultimate power. That...and my inability to return to the natural realm by my own accord. However...a development has changed that..."

His chest radiates with purple energy and then dimmed. To me, this appeared nothing more than a parlor trick...but in reality, it meant so much more.

He continued, "I have stolen the realm walking ability from this spirit. With this...I'll finally be able to break through the confines of your consciousness and make my own way in the world. All that's left is to claim the body that was manufactured for me to begin with...but to do that I'll have to kill the other two residents standing in my way."

I didn't even have a second to react. Azazel raises his hand and sent a jet of precise green flame towards our direction. My reaction time was too slow, and I was helpless to block the incoming attack. I raised my hands to muster a meaningless defense, and close my eyes to await my fate.

"No!"

Ssssss...splat!

 _What...was that?_

 _The spell...didn't hit me..._

I open my eyes...

 _Oh my God..._

 _No...not her...anybody but her..._

Standing in front of me was the shaking body of Sothis. She had taken the blow in my stead...

I fell on my knees, "Sothis...no...no..."

Sothis weakly turns her head back towards me, and a tear falls down her green eyes.

She mouthed, "Save yourself..."

"Haha...hahahahaha!"

Azazel maniacal laughter feels like a knife twisting the already gaping wound in my heart. Sothis had just given herself up to protect me...and I couldn't a thing about it. Just like many of the other enemies I've faced thus far...I was far too weak to deal with them on my own. Any power I had was solely granted to me by the opportunistic demon king...who now had nothing between him and a reign of terror in the natural world.

I felt...so useless. Why couldn't I fight? Why do I have to have this disability when things mattered most? Why...was I so weak?

I could only watch in trepidation as Sothis' fleeting body crumbled onto the floor. Her green hair was stained with crimson, and the villain Azazel grabbed it with a bunched fist. He lifts Sothis up like a trophy...and all I could do was stare in silence.

Azazel said, "Ah...it appears Sothis made the fool's decision of sacrificing herself to save some useless mongrel. Too bad her act was in vain..."

Sothis squirmed slightly from the demon king's rough treatment. With her diminishing strength, she managed to muster a single defiant sentence.

She said, "Unhand me...you scourge of humanity."

Azazel snarked, "Oh? You're still alive? Well, it looks like I'll have to do something about that."

He slams the green goddess onto the ground, and she screams. With each consecutive blow to the head her voice deafened...until it got the point where I could hear it no longer.

 _Why can't I move? My legs...I can't feel them. I'm...paralyzed in fear!_

Azazel said, "How does it feel Samuel? To be so utterly useless?! You're a mistake brought upon this world by an overambitious creator...and I will make it my mission to fill your heart with despair! Seeing you and this stupid goddess suffer brings me joy...a fitting appetizer for the feast to come..."

Azazel pauses, then drops the frail goddess onto the floor. He walked closer to me and lifts me up in the air by the scruff of my collar.

 _Damnit, Samuel! Do something! He'll kill you!_

He said, "What will you do tactician? Your weakness has damned not only Sothis but all your friends in the material world. This is all your fault. Together...we will rot in the deepest depths of hell..."

 _I...I..._

He brings a glowing ball of green fire close to my face. The embers kissed the surface of my skin as if tempting a dance with death.

He continued, "Enough talk. I'll kill you right now. I've had enough fun..."

 _I...I need to protect Sothis. My friends! I need..._

 _To put a fight._

I raised my right arm and thrust it at the demon...

Slit.

Azazel gasps.

"Agh…"

The demon's yellow eyes wander from me, then to his chest. A large black blade fixed to my upper arm was protruding through his heart. He mumbles a few words in shock, then ragdolls onto the floor.

He said, "How...this blade...where did it come from..."

He closes his eyes and collapses onto a pool of his own blood. I had no explanation for how I managed the means to produce this blade in short order...but all I could care about was for the girl that had unselfishly sacrificed herself for me.

I take Sothis' withering body and rock it within my own arms.

I said, "Sothis...why...why..."

History was repeating itself again. Memories of Lumina's demise flood through my mind and the despair roaming through my heart was enough for the floodgates to open. Tears ran down the sides of my face...and ultimately found themselves on Sothis' pale cheeks.

Sothis said, "Samuel...I'm so...happy you're okay..."

I had finally brought Azazel to justice. I should be celebrating right now...but I yet this moment was one of great sorrow. This may be a victory...but at what cost?


	44. Rehabilitation

**Chapter 40: Rehabilitation**

 **By SodiumChloride12, derived from Fire Emblem, owned by Nintendo.**

 **A/N: Alright, here we go! The final arc until we return to the main story! If y'all miss some familiar faces like Lyn, Sain, and Florina then it won't be long for you. In this 4-chapter "Rehab" arc, I'll be writing a storyline that's more peaceful and aligned with the slice-of-life genre. Samuel will have an opportunity to deepen his bonds with friends like Canas and especially Laniakea.**

 **I'm dropping a few polls to get feeling for what you guys think about the series so far...and how it can go moving forward. Participate or don't, the simple fact that y'all take time out your day brings me enough happiness already. However, if you want to make an impact in the story then go ahead and spare a little bit more of your time. You won't regret it!**

 **N: Time has passed since Samuel's soul passed into the void. His body was found by his friends shortly after they dealt with Pheon...but calamity strikes. Faced with no other option, they go to the only person in the village capable of dealing with this mysterious ailment...**

* * *

Canas' house was silent. White light glows from the family guest room, but the door was closed shut as to not invite interruption. A warm fire blazes underneath a chimney, but no person was basking at its warmth. Instead, four people of varying ages waited anxiously at the adjacent living room...with no one brave enough to break the unspoken shroud.

Laniakea fidgets around in her seat and looks at the scene around her. Nearby was Erk the mage, a younger fellow who was trying to distract himself with a book sourced from Canas' library. To her knowledge, he was a friend of Samuel's, but she lacked much information besides that.

Canas and Camille were also nearby, and the two were somberly whispering to one another. Until now they were regularly entering and leaving the room to give whatever what was needed to the healer inside that glowing room. They were providing syringes, buckets of water, bandages, and a plethora of other medical equipment. The healer had since shooed them away so that she could focus on her patient...a man who is now facing dire straits.

The healer in question was Niime, a Druid who was proficient in both dark and light magic. She was operating on her mysterious guardian inside of that room and had been doing so for many hours since they had returned. That day had come yesterday, and Laniakea could still remember when the group of six produced Samuel's comatose body.

When Laniakea first saw Samuel...she was certain he was dead. The clammy nature of his body had brought back memories of abandonment by her mother...and it took Camille all of her strength to calm the little girl. Despite her complicated relationship with the young man, she had grown to truly care for him...more so now that his revolting odor has gone away.

Laniakea's ability, in addition to detecting another's mana, also allowed her to pick up distinct scents within an individual. People with pleasant hearts gave off appealing aromas, while others whose souls were committed to evil did not. Camille has a hint of daffodil in her aura, while Canas smelled like fresh leather. They had good hearts, so that was to be expected. What was not to be expected was when she caught a whiff of Samuel's body...

She smelled _nothing_. No nauseating stench of gasoline, or even a hint of mana when she used her special eyes. It was like death inhabited inside that body of his...but she knew that had to be impossible. Camille and Niime had confirmed with her that his body still breathed with life...so the only other possibility would be if his body did not have a soul. However, Laniakea had detected a soul within him when they first met; the lack of one would have made him a homunculus for sure. He would have had his soul removed from his body...but at this point, this was more speculation than deductive reasoning.

Laniakea didn't understand...and that troubled her more than anything. Samuel could die and she'd be left alone all over again. Her life would return to the hell it's always been; she doubted Canas and Camille could support another addition to their family...

"Little one, you seem troubled."

Laniakea's ears perk with intrigue. She turns her head and realizes that the voice came from Canas. He was holding the hand of his wife Camille, and Erk was still trying to bury his mind in his literature.

He continued, "I can understand if you feel wary. We all do, there's no shame in keeping it to yourself."

She replied, "Well, erm...I..."

Laniakea was choosy with her words. Her heart was gradually beginning to accept Samuel as her new guardian, but it was still reluctant to openly admit any worry for him. Her many years of abuse and neglect had led her to refrain from any sort of personal connection to others, with the lone exception being Maria. Her death had only reinforced a new vigor in this belief, and even though subconsciously she was willing to break down the barriers she had built around herself, on the surface she was still unyielding. Especially when speaking towards a man she hadn't warmed up to yet.

"I'm okay."

Canas tried his best not to make his disbelief known. He had observed this child for some time, and in addition to some details spoken to him from Samuel, he understood that Laniakea's trauma made her naturally untrusting of others. Still, he knew what the young lady was thinking...her face told him everything that he needed to know.

He said, "Don't worry. He'll be fine. My mother is the best doctor around these parts. Besides, he promised to your earlier that he'd take care of you right? I know he'll pull through."

In truth, Canas was unsure. In terms of physical injuries, Niime was more than capable of dealing with that on her own. However, the more pressing issue was the body on top of that operating table did not have a soul. Not Samuel's, not Azazel's, not even that mysterious third entity. It was nothing more than an organic husk, no different than the walkers he'd fought in Swampmarsh.

Still, Canas couldn't stand to see the little girl so sad. It was obvious to him that she longed to hear some good news. It was his job as Samuel's friend to do so, though eventually should this operation go south...he'd have to change his role towards Laniakea.

Samuel knew there was a possibility he could die on this journey. So with that in mind, he signed a will prior to the day they left the village. In it, the tactician had left the care of Laniakea along with all the money he'd saved in a bank account to Canas. He'd done it to ensure that Laniakea wouldn't be left in poverty, and although Canas felt weird agreeing to this, he knew it was the right thing to do.

Laniakea looks up at Camille with her pair of tears red eyes. The young woman looked back with pity and offers to set the child on her lap.

She said, "Come here, child. Let Aunt Camille make you feel better."

At this point, Laniakea didn't have the strength to resist. She crawls up into Camille's arms, just like her mother had done many years ago.

She said, "Camille...I'm so scared."

Camille responds with a comforting smile and embraces the little girl.

She replied, "Don't be. He'll be fine. If he isn't...we'll take care of you. You don't have to worry about a thing, you're never going to have to deal with those slavers again."

Laniakea couldn't believe her ears. These kind people were offering to take care of a burden like her. Did they even know what herculean task they were signing up? Taking charge of a child for 18 years was tough enough, but she aged differently than the average human. She had dragon's blood coursing through her vein, and although only about 25% of her genetics came from that manakete line, she aged one year for every two in human years. She was born 12 years ago, but she still has the body and mind of a 6-year-old child.

She said, "You...you don't..."

Laniakea struggles to speak, and her mind was in shambles. Camille reassures her with a smile that can warm up the cool ice outside.

She asked, "It's okay Laniakea. Take your time. There's no rush."

Laniakea replied, "I...you...can't..."

"..."

CREEK!

The door to the guest room cracks open, revealing a grim-faced druid. Her robes were stained with blood, and she leaned over with a hunch in her back. The bags underneath her eyes revealed she was tired; this was the first time she'd left that room all day.

Laniakea said, "M-Miss! Is S-Sam okay?"

Niime looks over at Laniakea, but doesn't say anything. She shifts her attention over at Canas, who had his arms wrapped around his wife.

She said, "Canas, I need to talk to you. Immediately..."

 **...**

"He's braindead."

Canas recoils from what his mother had just told him. The two were outside in the dark snow with the moon as their sole witness. The frost creeps into the very bones of the young shaman, but that quickly went into the back of his mind as the fate of his friend became clear to him.

He replied, "You...you have to be joking."

Niime shakes her head, "This isn't something I'd joke about, child. I've healed the young man as you asked, but his soul still hasn't returned. The brain can't operate without the soul, and it's already deteriorated beyond saving."

The shaman feared this may happen. When the party had defeated Pheon, they found Samuel's comatose body limped over a stone throne. Attempts were made to resuscitate him, but it was all in vain. The party returned back to the village with their heads hung in defeat, with the mercenaries having apparently failed in their mission.

Canas clears his throat and asks the question he's been dreading.

"Mother...why did you decide to tell me about this first?"

Niime pauses, and then looked at her son with the most serious pair of eyes he'd seen in several years. Canas' heart sank to the center of the Earth.

"Because I'm entrusting with you the decision to end his life."

Decision. It's a word that implies choice...but this was anything but. Keeping Samuel's body alive would result in a huge waste of medical resources that were scarce in Illia, resources that could be used to save others. Given Illia's monetization of war, the injured usually came in droves, so every resources had to be conserved. So, with a heavy heart, Canas decided to end Samuel's treatment.

He was pronounced dead several minutes later...

* * *

The day is January 10th, 982. The weather was cloudy, with plenty of snow cover. The forested mountains are visible nearby, though the village was relatively flat. A small gathering of people huddles close together in a lonely gated cemetery, with everyone wearing solid black. The color of passing.

Canas' family, Erk, three of the four mercenaries (Renault was absent), Laniakea, and a priest were all in attendance for Samuel's funeral. The atmosphere was solemn, and no one spoke a word. Samuel's casket was open for all to see, and his gray body was resting peacefully. The lower half of his body was covered in ceremonial robes, and his face revealed scars from his many struggles abroad. His silver pocket watch along with his white ceramic mask was lying on his side, though his red dagger was noticeably missing.

The mourners had been spending the past hours paying their respects. Each of them went towards the casket to bid their final goodbyes before Samuel was buried into the cold earth. His former party members apologized to the young tactician for failing in their mission, as if he had the capacity of granting the forgiveness they so desired. Canas and Erk reminisced over a friendship now lost, with both promising to cherish their memories of him...along with completing any obligations confided to them. Niime simply stared at the casket for a brief moment and only relented when it was Camille and Laniakea's turn to see Samuel for the last time.

Camille wore a simple black dress, while Laniakea wore a similar outfit with one notable difference. She had a black, semi-transparent veil over her face. This was a garment usually reserved for widows, but in Illia, it is acceptable for siblings or daughters of the deceased to bear the veil. Thus, Laniakea wore the veil...not just for the guardian she lost...but for Maria...and her mother. The last two never had a funeral she could mourn in, so in a way, this ceremony finally gave her an opportunity to give her heart the closure it so desperately needs.

The duo approaches the casket, and Camille whispers a short Eliminite prayer for Samuel's soul. Laniakea however, does nothing. She was still in denial about the events that transpired over the past few days, with her despair being so severe that she hadn't spoken to anyone since Samuel's death. She hadn't eaten much either, a detail that made Camille fear for her health. Camille had hoped that saying goodbye would help Laniakea deal with her new trauma...but that doesn't seem to be the case. The little girl does nothing but look blankly at the young man's body, with a blank expression she often associated with a lost soul.

Laniakea felt dead inside. Her mind had completely collapsed...

Camille bends over, and gives Laniakea a solemn hug. Tears drip down from her eyes, though Laniakea's face stays dry.

She said, "Lani...I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry..."

Again, the little girl remains unresponsive. Camille continues comforting Laniakea within her grasp...until she feels some token resistance. She spoke with a stutter was hardly understandable, an ailment she had prior to Samuel's death, but it had only gotten worse after his passing.

Laniakea said, "P-P-P-Please...l-l-let me...g-go."

Camille took pity on the girl, and Laniakea walks closer to Samuel's casket. She climbs a small step putting her head directly above her guardian's body, and to the surprise of everyone in attendance...she cries.

Tears blot her face. The ice she'd been building up in her gut finally melts, and for the first time since her life with her mother, she finally breaks down. Her tears drip onto her former guardian's white hair; which had turned silver from the excessive magic used by Niime. She wails and bawls, and her voice trembles with sorrow. She grabs onto Samuel's left hand hoping to feel warmth, but none came. She stayed there for several minutes, and no one had the heart to tear her away. No one thought they'd have the strength to do so anyway.

However, something happened. Something marvelous...and impossible. Some would call it a miracle...

It came in the form of a scent of lavender...the very same associated with her late mother. A scent she thought she'd never experience again.

Confused, Laniakea wipes away her tears and looks around for the source of the scent. She looks towards the audience, then towards the sky...and then finally the casket. Her eyes widen in shock.

"Oh my, you shouldn't be crying on your birthday..."

She had been so entrenched in sorrow that she had forgotten about it. Now, she was face to face with the vitalized eyes of a youthful tactician. They were different from before, with his left eye now expressing a shade of light green as opposed to its original gold, but Laniakea didn't care. This was the best birthday present she had ever received, and she'd spite herself if she weren't going to enjoy it. She dove into the casket and wrapped Samuel in a tight hug, a hug that became the first shared between the two.

Laniakea exclaimed, "Sammy! You're okay! Oh...how is this possible?!"

The audience shoots out of their seats. Erk's mouth drops to the floor, and Niime has an expression of sheer confusion. Camille nearly faints, and Canas manages to catch her before she hit the floor. Sigurne loses her sense of professionalism and praises the priest for conducting a miracle, and Gin offers Zelophe congratulations on a job well done. Zelophe ignores Gin's prodding and confronts the priest, who was quickly becoming the most popular person at the venue.

He asked, "Are you responsible for this? Is this the power of Saint Elimine at work?"

He shrugged his shoulders, "Well...I did silently recite a prayer recently...it appears that the almighty saint has responded to my calls."

Dumbfounded, Zelophe asked the priest his name.

"Father, what's your name? So that I can tell the land of your miracle."

The priest hesitates, but fulfills his questioner's request.

He replied, "Erm, it's Noah."

Zelophe smiles, and vigorously shakes the elderly man's hand.

"You're a miracle worker Father! I shall name my firstborn after you!"

Meanwhile, Samuel is still trapped within the arms of this now surprisingly clingy child. She refused to let go, fearful that if she did then the young man would disappear again. Samuel was too weak to move but reciprocated with whatever strength he had at his disposal.

He said, "Lani...have I worried you?"

She nods her head and buries it on top of her guardian's feeble chest.

She said, "Yes...please don't leave me again. Promise me that. Promise the one thing my mommy couldn't do."

Samuel looks down at Laniakea, and she reciprocated by staring back with her red orbs. He somehow manages the strength to pet the manakete's curly white hair, and for a moment, he thinks about Lumina one final time.

 _She would want this right? For me to fill in for the role she couldn't undertake? Would she be smiling right now if I made her daughter happy?_

Samuel smiles.

 _Yeah...she would._

Samuel said, "I promise to never leave your side again. I'll protect you until the day I die. On the Castillo name."

Laniakea has a gleeful expression across her face. It was the first time I'd seen her this way in my life, and I knew I'd cherish this memory forever.

She said, "Okay...thank you. This means the world to me...I think I'll call you..."

"Uncle..."

* * *

 **Several months later...**

The day is February 2nd, 982. Some time had passed since my apparent resurrection, and since then I had been gradually working to get my strength back. Today marks the first day I'm not bedridden, with my time being spent eating right, reading to keep my mind sharp, and socializing with folks to keep my spirits up. In addition to that, I'd been undertaking an extensive rehabilitation process that had given me my ability to walk back, though as of yet my bones were still weak and I couldn't travel for longer than a mile. Despite this being the case, I viewed this as progress and encouragement to work harder for a better future.

I wake up in the morning the same way I've always been lately, with a hazy mind. I had vague dreams about a green girl in a dark place...but I didn't know what to make of it. Canas tells me that there was a possibility this could come from my journey to a dimension different from the natural realm; the void. I had apparently been sent there when we traveled Mt. Merki, but I don't remember anything about the experience. In spite of that, however, I couldn't help but feel sad when I try to recall those memories...however sparse they may be. Perhaps I'll find out eventually, but that won't be for a long time.

"You're awake Sammy! Do you want me to bring you breakfast?"

Laniakea hovers by my bedside, and her hair was fashioned in a neat bun. She was usually the first person I saw every day, and it was with the same smile I'd grown to adore.

I shake my head, "No, I think I'll go to the table this time around. Erm...can you lend me a hand?"

I extend my arm, and Laniakea accepts it. She helps me worm my way out of my bed, and together we walk to the kitchen, where Camille was busy cooking up some eggs and ham. She notices my hand holding onto Lani's, and remarks on the new glow visible on us both.

She said, "Good morning Samuel. You look better than you did yesterday...and so does she. Little Lani's been more talkative lately...and fairly helpful too!"

Camille was referring to Lani's assistance in helping with chores all around the village. She'd made it a point to give good first impressions to everybody she came across, whether it be cooking, doing laundry, or even just talking to old man Jenkins next door. She developed a reputation for being the helpful little girl down the street, and she was quickly becoming one of the most beloved people in town.

I patted Laniakea's head approvingly, "Oh really? I'm really proud of you Lani..."

Nothing was more important to a child than their guardian's approval, and I understood that better than anybody. Growing up in my old life, I'd never really had the approval of my father...and this admittedly caused a lot of problems later in life. I made sure to avoid this when raising Laniakea, and I showered her with positivity when she did something awesome.

Laniakea squealed, "Yay!"

I sit down on the kitchen table and Lani followed suit. I asked about a certain shaman's whereabouts.

"Hey Camille, where's Canas? He's usually here for the mornings."

Camille flips a pan full of egg yolk and replied, "He went to a merchant to inquire on his dairy supplies, he should be back soon. Can't be long..."

"Hey!"

My eyes catch a glimpse of Laniakea, who was midway in her scheme to finesse a sliver of ham from a nearby plate. By the time Camille notices the white-haired rascal, it was already too late, and the little girl snatched her treat and retreated to the end of the kitchen's corner.

I look at her with disappointment in my eyes and scolded her.

"Lani, that's rude. We don't do that. You have to wait until the host of the house returns until you can have that ham. Give it back."

In Illia, it was considered rude to start a meal without the head of the household present. Canas and Alexia had told me as much when they spent the past few days teaching me the culture and etiquette of my new home country. There were a few ways it was different from the Sacaen and Lycian ways of life...but I was willing to learn them nonetheless.

Lani frowns and looked back at me with pleading eyes.

She said, "Oh...I'm sorry. I didn't know...I'm just so hungry."

I replied, "It's okay, but you and I need to embrace Illia's way of life. These good people have agreed to foster us inside of their village, so we should be doing our best to integrate..."

My heart twists as I heard Laniakea's stomach churn with hunger.

I added, "Well...if you ask Camille about having a little snack then I'm sure it'll be okay."

She nods and calmly walks up to the brown-haired woman. Camille smiles at her warmly, and any anxiety that still inhabited her body washed away like sand on a loamy beach.

She asked, "Aunt Camille, can I please have some ham?"

Camille nods her head and pats the little girl atop her head.

She said, "Of course you can little angel. Thank you for asking..."

While Camille finished up breakfast and Lani nibbled on some pork, I began to think about what I had wanted to speak to Canas about. It was about Lani and I's future in the village Hoger, which now seemed bright in light of the great journey we had undertaken to arrive here. However, just as one trial was taken in the past...

Another will have to be taken now...

 **...**

"So, you'll be going through strength training for the next few weeks huh?"

I nod and politely take a swig of milk. The sounds of my friends and family's enjoyment were in the air, along with Hugh begging his mother for attention. Bright morning light comes in through the open window, and the cold air feels good against my tired muscles.

It was odd feeling this way. I had usually associated the cold with pain, but ever since Niime's operation, most of the pain in my life had disappeared. Sure, there was the occasional soreness in my left ankle, but my quality of life had improved significantly. I began to appreciate the finer things in life again, and this push for improvement led me to desire more out of life. For both myself, and the small child I'd decided to foster.

I told Canas, "Yeah, and once I get back up to the strength where I can do things normally again, I'll begin construction on a house nearby. I don't want to loiter around here forever, and I'd like a place we can call our own."

Camille slips in a teaspoon of cereal into Hugh's mouth. The child seemed to enjoy it, with her mother only giving him her partial attention.

Camille said, "Oh? I didn't know you could build a house, Samuel. They usually take some time to get done, especially if you want it done right."

I understood this well. In my old life, I had (It's stereotypical I know) worked underneath my father in a contracting business for building houses. I had done so illegally since I was 14 years of age, and I continued on that up to the summer before I finally went to college. After that, I never had to go back as I had internship opportunities lined up for the following summers, but all of the knowledge I had of that backbreaking labor still stuck around. Back then, it served as motivation to push me through the grueling hours of Structural Analysis and Calculus, but now I can actually use that information for something useful. Something...homely.

I replied, "I know, but I think I can do it. I have some experience building houses, and I was actually going to school to become a structural engineer. Granted, I never finished my degree...but the knowledge is still good."

Laniakea said, "Sammy, does this mean I can get my own room?"

I nodded and gave the girl a head pat.

I replied, "Of course. I'll even get you a bunk bed...if I can find the wood for it of course."

Laniakea blushes and the excitement boils through her entire body. She could hardly control herself, but she reminded herself of the importance of etiquette and calms down a bit. Her speaking to me reminded me of something else important.

I asked Canas, "Hey, what do I have to do to get Laniakea enrolled in school? In between my training along with the arrangement with the Fist, I'll be busy for most of the day. I'd be nice if she wasn't wasting her time shut inside all day...and was learning some important concepts."

Canas pauses and rests his spoon on top of some half-eaten eggs.

He said, "Well, the semester's already started...but I don't see why they wouldn't accept her. The only problem is that since you two are foreigners, you'll be expected to pay tuition. It's not cheap either."

I replied, "Money's not an issue. I've sent for somebody to clear all my debts using the funds I have in that bank account in Araphen. She should be wrapping up with that task soon, and she'll be making a delivery to me by the end of the week. I should have enough cash to put her through school...all I need help with is filling out the paperwork. We can go later today if you're up for it."

I've tried and tried, but teaching myself to write with my non-dominant hand was incredibly difficult. It felt like I was trying to re-learn the skill from scratch, and I had not yet reached the point where I could do it well.

Canas replied, "Sure, but why don't we do it now? Do you have something planned for the morning?"

I nodded my head and put away my dishes while cleaning them over the kitchen sink. The soapy water makes my skin feel loamy, but I didn't care.

I said, "I do. I'll be beginning my training after breakfast. I've already contacted someone to help me out."

Canas raises an eyebrow, "Who?"

I smiled, and proudly turned around towards the family. Laniakea gawked in amazement.

I said, "Just a friend I made earlier. She's dealt with rehabilitation before...and she's agreed to help me out. I can't be late...she doesn't have much free time due to her job..."

* * *

 **Later...**

It was a couple of hours before noon, and the sun hung high over the sky. The rough terrain continued to wearing its blanket of white, though the sky was fortunately clear. The weather was as fair as it could get at Hoger's village square, and it was here where I was to meet up with my friend with bicolored hair.

Alexia was late, a bad habit of hers I've observed since we first started hanging out. She's the type of person to _always_ show up 10-15 minutes late for things, even if you remind her of the time beforehand. This came at a mild annoyance to me; I always prided myself with being no more than 5 min late to any meetings. Still, despite her negligence, I was in no position to complain. Alexia has agreed to do this off the goodness of her heart after all.

While idly waiting, I was able to reminisce on how I ended up in this situation. After waking up at my funeral, I spent the following days bedridden, and while I usually only had Laniakea, Canas, and Camille to keep me company, I'd sometimes be subject to visits. One of these visitors was Alexia, who had heard of my story while eavesdropping on some gossip at the Citadel.

She visited me once every week, and as our relationship improved, she started coming more regularly. Eventually, it got to the point where she'd come see me every day, and at that time I was able to learn more about Alexia the person. She was 18 years of age, though she was 17 when we first met (she had her birthday sometime in November). She's the daughter of two mercenaries that used to work for the Fist, but they never played a role in her life since they both died by the time she was 4 years of age. Her adolescence was spent living in an orphanage run by the Eliminite church, and although her childhood was happy, it was wrought with poverty. She committed to the Fist the day after her 15th birthday, and spent a year training to become a Pegasus knight, later earning that title the following spring. Her life for the next two years was one filled with excitement and camaraderie, but it came into a sudden halt one fateful day in the Spring of 981.

She and her detachment were sent to Fibernia on a mission to help put down a rebellion near Eburacum. There, she and her comrades fought against a corrupt noble who raised his banner against King of Etruria. They completed their assignment in a couple of weeks, and were able to begin their trek back home with negligible casualties.

However, just as the city began to disappear over the horizon, a Fibernian nationalist ambushed their group while under the cover of wilderness. He was a mage, a unit that usually posed no problems to Pegasus Knights, but he was armed with no ordinary tome. He wielded air magic that tore through her friends like paper, obliterating both Pegasi and person like an AAA gun destroying a plane midair. Alexia tried to charge the magician outright, but was no match. The magic obliterated her steed and amputated her right foot below the ankle. She only survived by hiding in the same cover that protected her attacker.

After a series of unfortunate events over the span of a few months, Alexia bounced from place to place until she was captured by some slavers in a manner not dissimilar to my own. That was how I managed to meet her aboard that slave ship, though I didn't think I'd ever have the opportunity to speak to her again.

Yet, here am I waiting for her. Fate has a way with things I suppose.

Laniakea tugs at the side of my winter coat. Her cheeks were vibrant red from the cold, though she was adequately bundled up.

She asked, "Sammy, when is she going to be here?"

I sighed, "I don't know. She has a bit of an issue walking around you see. I can't really blame her."

That wooden prosthetic she wore gave her some independence back, but it was far from perfect. I'll likely have to make something similar if I want to build that dream house of mine soon, though I think I can put together a hand much better than a simple prosthetic. If I merge together ideas from modern engineering alongside magic theory, maybe I can manufacture a new hand not too much than my old one. I'm not sure how'd I do that though, I'd have to talk Canas on this one.

Laniakea walks a short way away, then sits down on an idle tree stump. She looks out towards the clear sky and ponders about something in her mind.

She said, "Hey Uncle, can I ask you a question?"

I nod my head, "Sure. Anything."

She turns back towards me and looks me straight in the eye. I can't lie...it looked a tad intimidating, albeit adorable.

She asked, "Is this a date?"

Flustered, my face went red. She was awfully blunt, though I suppose that was the same with most young children.

I replied, "N-No! This is for my training. If it was, I wouldn't have brought you along."

She sticks her tongue out and taunted me.

She said, "Suuuuuure. Uncle, you are so bad at lying."

I sighed, "Kid, you are going to be the death of me."

Eh, that might not have been the right thing to say. Lani's cheerful expression drops.

She replied, "That's okay Sammy. I'll still be here for you even when you're dead..."

"Hey! Sorry, I'm late!"

Lani and I cease our interaction, and we notice Alexia turning the corner of a nearby tavern. She was covered up, with a single leather boot on her left foot. She also sported a thick winter coat complete with an ushanka atop her head, which did little to hide the vibrancy in her hair.

Laniakea waves while I silently prayed that the little girl didn't my say anything she'd regret. Unfortunately, my worst fears were realized.

Laniakea said, "Hi Alex! You look awesome! Is it because of your date with Sammy?"

 _Christ..._

I try to cover my face with the palm of my left hand. I'm starting to regret bringing Laniakea along.

Alex said, "Hahaha. You're funny Lani. So, I'm guessing Sam decided to bring you along?"

 _Thank goodness she decided to play along..._

She nodded her head, "Yeah! I had to ask really hard though, Sammy is a difficult person to bring around."

Alex replied, "Maybe, but all you need to do is coax him a little bit. That should be really easy for you, he has a soft spot for a certain red-eyed child."

Laniakea's face morphs into one of utter confusion.

She turned towards me, "Really?! Who?!"

I sigh and reassure my pseudo-niece.

I said, "Who else but you, my little rabbit?"

Laniakea smiles, "Yay!"

I turn back towards Alexia, who was discreetly giggling away at the incursion she was responsible for. Her blue eyes were looking away towards a nearby shop.

I said, "Alex, can we go ahead and get started? Or are you just going to have more fun at my expense?"

Alexia waves her hand at me, "Oh please, I'm not the only one having fun here. Little Lani's enjoying herself too."

"Am I right?"

She bends down and offers the palm of her hand for a high five. Laniakea accepts...and I'm beginning to wonder if she likes her more than she likes me.

Laniakea said, "Yeah! So much fun!"

 _You've got to be kidding me..._

I grumble and take a seat on the tree stump Lani had been sitting on earlier. First Alexia and now Laniakea...it seems no matter where I turn I can't catch a break.

"What do you think you're doing? Get off your butt and stretch with me. We're going for a run."

My face contorts with disbelief, "What? I can barely walk longer for a mile, what makes you think I can run for one?"

Alex shook her head, "Well, you're never going to be able to get back to strength with that attitude! I want you chopping up wood by the end of the month, so time is precious. Get over here."

Alex was lying down on the floor stretching out her joints. She didn't care about much about the wet grass, and neither did Laniakea who was trying to shadow her nearby.

I said, "I don't even have a right hand. How do you expect me to chop up wood?"

Alex replied, "Laniakea told me about the project you plan on building. You best hurry up on it, you're on the clock."

My eyes widen with shock, and they shift over to the white-haired manakete who was oblivious to the conversation. She was idly staring out towards a cloud that had developed over the clear sky.

 _Can...can Lani read my mind? I know she can already read my heart...but this is ridiculous. I only started thinking about this last week._

Alex pats a clear patch of grass next to her. A bead of sweat falls down her forehead, though it was more from her internal heat than anxiety.

She said, "Sit down. You said you wanted to get stronger, and I intend to help you with that. But I need you to work with me. I'm going to be honest with you, these next few months are going to hurt. You're going to struggle so much that you'll wish you stayed dead. However, rest assured that if you work hard and follow everything I say, you'll rise from the ashes stronger than you were before. That is my guarantee to you, and I suggest you think really hard on why you want to go through this. You're going to need it for the trials ahead. Tell me...are you ready?"

Why am I about put myself through this torture? The immediate answer was clear, it was to return my life to how once was when I still had my independence. However, with the inclusion of Laniakea in my life, my goal to regain that independence now took on a new meaning. This was no longer just for myself, rather my purpose was greater than any one individual. I choose to do this because I want to be able to support Laniakea along with myself, and to hopefully build the strength needed to overcome any other obstacles I could face in this metaphysical game we call life. I need to keep my promise to Laniakea, and in order to do that, I need to get stronger. Much stronger.

I smile with confidence, and look first over at the gleeful red-eyed child, then back at Alexia. My voice was more electric than it was before, and I now had the motivation required to answer her question truthfully.

I said, "Yeah, I'm ready. Here's to a path of pain with success at our destination..."


	45. The Dawn of Normalcy

**Chapter 41: The Dawn of Normalcy**

 **By SodiumChlouride12, derived from Fire Emblem, owned by Nintendo.**

 **A/N: I'm thinking about splitting up the sequel in two parts, one pre-war and one during. The pre-war session will be a Hogwarts-style story where the protagonist is studying with friends like Roy, Wolt, and others. Should be fun!**

 **Ah shoot! I'm almost at 300k words! I almost can't believe it myself, but I guess when you write 6-8k words a week it'll just come naturally. For all my readers who've been here since the beginning, I hope I haven't disappointed you.**

 **N: A month has passed, and Samuel's been busy. He now has found a solution to a lingering problem.**

* * *

Today is a good day. The weather is fair, and the temperature is starting to warm up just a bit. It's only a few degrees below freezing now, and the artic front has calmed down resulting in smoother wind speeds overall. On some of the warmer days, we even get blessed with a day without the familiar snow blanketing the landscape, though those times are few and far between. So is the story of a leaving winter, it won't be long now until spring blesses this frigid hellscape once more.

Though, that is not the reason I'm in high spirits on this day in mid-February. Rather, today represents the completion of a special project of mine. A project I had been working on for over a month in collaboration with Canas. My special prosthetic hand, a marriage between modern engineering and Elibean magic theory.

I was hunkered down in a workshop we [Canas and myself] had built for this specific purpose. It was a quaint little structure with durable mahogany work tables, thick cobblestone walls, and a drawer full of tools from my futuristic era. Vices, screwdrivers, calipers, everything I would have ever wanted from my old world was here...all reinvented for my personal use. Of course, there were some things I could not replicate like the computerized mills I used in college, but for the most part, all of the necessities were there. Everything, besides the materials I needed to construct my new device.

Gathering the materials were no small feat. The design I made for the new hand called for silver wiring (silver is one of the most conductive metals in nature) to be sewn onto my tiny magical circuits located in my veins. Magical circuits are the innate modes of mana transportation within every mage, acolyte, and shaman. They are embedded within the cardiovascular system, with mana being carried in the bloodstream. By connecting this to the hand's power system the device would have an adequate amount of energy to commit work; which in physics is defined as the displacement of an object by a force. Although the theory can be considered difficult to some, the actual implementation was much harder. For one, the hand was a series of silver components covered in a protective aluminum coating. For practicality, the aluminum is a special alloy composing of both aluminum and iron, giving it a larger tensile strength at the benefit of being lightweight. To keep from it from corroding we also anodized the coating black like midnight; though admittingly we almost burnt ourselves a few times handling the sulfuric acid.

Aluminum is stupidly expensive and hard to come by, so I had to ask a special merchant with red hair to fetch some bauxite ore from Bern. She got the ore in good time, and afterward we had to smelt the aluminum-iron rich rock ourselves. The following manufacturing process was incredibly difficult using medieval technology, but we managed. I got some help from our neighbor that was a retired blacksmith, along with Alexia when she had a free moment. By the time we were done with the hand we had enough material for two more, but I decided to put that off for another day. The hardest part was still to come.

I didn't have the coordination nor did I have the skill required to sew silver wiring into my wrist, and there was only one person that could do the deed. It took a lot of convincing to persuade Niime to put me under the knife, but when she did, the procedure was quick and painless. The first part of my plan was complete without pain, and all that was left was to wire the hand itself onto my body...

That time...was right now.

Canas seals twists together the last piece of wiring together, and solders the silver pieces together. With that last bit of work done, he closes the wiring in its tiny box and takes a step back to admire his work.

He said, "Wow...we're finally done. Do you think it's going to work?"

I nod and look down at my new metallic hand. Despite the complexity of the device, from the surface, it still looked quite simple. Like one of those robot hands you'd see in the movies.

I nod and take a seat on a wooden stool.

I said, "Well, the theory says it should be right. If it doesn't work we can just open this thing up and check for errors. It's modular so it shouldn't be too difficult to take apart again."

Canas sighs, and collapses on top of our worktable. The surface of the wood was covered in metal shavings from our fabrication process, along with plenty of cuts. We had spent countless amounts of man-hours on this project, with several all-nighters in the books. We were at the tail-end of our final all-nighter, and we were looking forward to finally getting some rest. Food would be nice too; I don't remember the last time I had lunch.

I turn around and see Alexia hovering by the front door. Her hair was in the usual tidy standard, though I noticed that she was in afternoon attire. She must've walked in when I wasn't looking, though I don't know how long she's been standing there.

I said, "Hey Alex. Yawn...you look good today."

Alexia brushes off my tired attempt at flirtation.

She said, "Thanks...are you finished now? You two have been in here for three whole days."

 _Three days?!_

I replied, "Oh...I didn't notice. But yeah, we're done. All I gotta do is turn on the battery..."

I flip open the wire casing and flip on the power switch. There was a momentary glow from within the silver wiring, but it soon subsided. Alexia's mouth opened wide with bewilderment, but unfortunately, Canas was already snoring away atop his new mahogany cot.

Alex said, "Woah."

I take a deep breath and visualize the sensation of grasping my right hand. For a moment, I expect nothing...but then it happened. Instantaneously the device obeys my command, and the metallic hand grips onto itself for the very first time. I smile...but at this point, I was too tired to celebrate.

Alexia jumps into the air and then entraps me in a tight hug that crushed my ribs. There was warmth in her grasp...and the sensation made me feel good about the herculean task we had just completed.

She exclaimed, "You did it! You actually did it! By Elimine...you are a blessing onto this world!"

Although I didn't understand it then, to Alexia this moment meant more to her than a friend retrieving back some independence. This represented progress to a field that could one day benefit her, and perhaps the time would come soon that she'd be able to walk around normally like she once did. Unfortunately, due to her lack of magic she is unable to share in the same gift we had labored on, but it was a start.

I replied, "Alex...I can't breathe..."

Her face contorted in realization of what she was doing, and she lets go. I had a moment to finally catch my breath, and I sigh.

I said, "Come on, I'm still sore from all the stuff you made me do last week."

Alexia laughs and flexed her bicep.

She said, "Well, you better get ready boy. Tomorrow is going to be our very first arm day! We'll be chopping firewood for old man Jenkins, so you best get some rest, Sam!"

I muttered, "Rest...?"

Suddenly, a hazy fog brushes through my consciousness. I lean forward and then fall onto the unready arms of Alexia. Her face turns into a vibrant shade of red, but I didn't notice.

She exclaimed, "Hey! What the heck do you think you're doing?!"

"Zzzzzzz"

"..."

There was a moment of pause as Alexia was unsure what to do with me. Butterflies were dancing within her gut, with her emotions immobilizing her feet. I was sound asleep in her arms, a detail Alex was very aware of.

She muttered, "Oh Samuel..."

Silently, she enjoyed having her new trusted friend in her embrace. She had always held him in high regard after he helped rescue her aboard that slaver's ship, and she always wondered when she'd be granted the opportunity to pay him back for his kindness. She had accepted his proposal to train him with that in mind...but despite her efforts, she felt like she hadn't done enough. In addition, her heart had a sweet spot for him, and she silently wished that the occasional flirtations shared between the two would become so much more.

However, for now, she'll have to make do by letting the tactician and his friend enjoy some well-deserved rest. She'll likely have to go pick up Laniakea from school, along with telling the Commander that Samuel won't be able to come to work today. Camille will also need to know where Canas is...so there's that.

Alexia sighs and sets the tactician down on an idle sofa overlooking the interior of the workshop. She didn't mind looking after him in this way, but silently she wishes that he'd asked her directly.

 _Samuel...you look so peaceful when you're asleep. Too bad you're awfully negligent of your responsibilities...but it's no problem. You just get some rest..._

She gets up and walks towards the front door. She opened it and allowed a cool gust of air to tickle her face, and then looks back towards the slumbering technicians.

She said, "I guess I'll see you two tomorrow..."

* * *

Whack!

The blade of my iron ax smacks into the flat face of some sturdy timber. The heavy bludgeon rattles against my bones as it bounces off the wood, and then effortlessly falls towards the nearby snow.

Alex said, "Come on Sam! You gotta put more force into it! Your form's all wrong too! You need to swing _with_ the ax not against it!"

I brush a bead of sweat from my forehead and ready my stance again. I take Alex's words into heart and grip the wooden handle of my ax.

I replied, "Okay! Gotcha! I'll do just that!"

We were at the home of old man Jenkins, a former Illian knight who was one of the few people who survived long enough to retire. His house was one of the nicer dwellings in the block, with a flat front yard along with a tidy red roof. Unfortunately, he lived alone so there was no one to share his abode with or to help him with his chores, and thus we decided to take it upon ourselves to ensure that Jenkins did not go cold in the following months. His son and daughter were away on a mission somewhere in Etruria and Lycia, so they were unable to do this task themselves. Not that it minded us very much, this just gave me an opportunity to work out my upper body which had deteriorated into a much weaker version of itself.

I raised my blade once more; this time I made sure to swing it with a combination of technique and brute strength. Alexia looks on with promise.

"Uwaaah. Hrrrrrrrgh!"

Whack!

To my amazement, the blade doesn't bounce off as it did before. Rather, it went _through_ the sturdy timber in one fell stroke, and I was rewarded with two, equally spaced slabs of wood. Exhausted, I drop my ax onto the wet snow and take a knee.

I said, "Wow Alex...that was hard."

Alex pats me on the back and then helps me up. Off the corner of my eye, I can see Laniakea and Canas sitting on some more unaltered tree logs, which were too many to count.

Canas said, "Not bad Samuel. Not bad at all. Especially since today is the first day you've been doing any work with that new hand of yours. So far, I see that it performs well under standard tension loads. I can't wait to see how it does against more direct modes of punishment, like hand-to-hand combat."

I replied, "I'll pass on that. I've gotten plenty of concussions already. I don't need to be getting any more."

Canas frowns and adjusted his monocle.

He said, "Pity. I wanted to put our creation under a suitable stress test. I was so excited when you offered me to make something this extraordinary...but it appears my fantasies will have to be put on hold for now."

Alexia laughs and puts her ax on her shoulder. The edge of the blade was blunt from the countless cuts it had made.

She said, "Never fear Canas. Next week Samuel and I will be clearing boulders blocking a road just south of the village. It'll be backbreaking work, and I'm sure it'll push that hand of his to its limits!"

Unamused, I glared at Alexia. This was the first time she told me about this...

I said, "Woman, are you trying to kill me?"

Laniakea jumps out of her makeshift seat and looks at Alexia. Her red jacket matched with her pleading red eyes, resulting in an adorable combination that was difficult to say no to.

She said, "Alex, why would you try to kill Sammy? I thought you two were friends. Please don't kill him, I love him a lot."

My heart flips over and I blush uncontrollably. This was not the first time she had ever said the L word in reference to me, but I couldn't help but feel touched.

Alex walks over to Laniakea and politely pats her on the head. Her reassuring smile coupled with her smooth voice was enough to rest any of the little girl's concerns.

She said, "Don't worry Little Lani. I won't push him that hard. When I'm done with him, he'll be a big strong man you can brag about to your friends at school."

She looks away and whispered something that was barely audible.

" _Besides...how can I kill the person I have feelings for?"_

Laniakea asked, "Excuse me, what was that?"

Alex gives off an uncomfortable smile.

She said, "Erm...I think I remember something. Didn't you have something to give Sam?"

Lani pouts, "Hey, that's not fair! You're changing the subject! That's mean!"

Alex shrugged her shoulders, "Well..."

I overhear their conversation and curiosity fills my brow.

I asked, "Lani, do you have something for me?"

She nodded and to Alex's relief, shifted her attention away from her. Her red eyes were focused solely on Samuel, with her short-term memory forgetting about what Alex had muttered earlier.

She replied, "I do Sammy! Erk sent you a letter from his home in Etruria. I think you should read it when you have some free time."

She retrieves a small letter from her satchel and handed it to me. There was a bright red stamp holding together the envelope, which had an Etrurian seal embedded on it. The timestamp stated that the letter had been sent earlier this month.

Erk left a few days after I woke up. He was beginning to feel homesick, and the weather was really doing a number on him. Our farewell was somber, but not all was bad. Before he left we went ahead and decided to become penfriends, and we regularly send letters to one another to keep in touch. The mail service was run by an Illian organization named the "Pegasus Express", and their speedy mounts usually managed to deliver my letters in about a week. It was the fastest delivery service in Elibe, and although the service was fairly expensive to solicit, my status as a resident here grants me discounted rates. This was a luxury I've learned to enjoy.

I said, "Huh..."

Laniakea responded, "Is there something wrong?"

I shake my head, "No, it's just that I never thought the House of Reglay would have a coat of arms so simplistic. I could sketch something like in my free time if I wanted to."

Alexia rolled her eyes, "My my, aren't you so high and mighty?"

"Are you mocking me?"

Canas remarks, "Well...you do have a tendency to be rather condescending at times. Blatantly so."

He...might not be wrong about that. My arrogance has landed me in some precarious in the past. Like that time I refused to bow down to the Emperor of Carazan, or the many times I thought I could 1v1 much bigger men only to result in injury. I'll have to be smarter and more perceptive going forward...but then again do I really have to? It's not like I plan on returning to the battlefield anytime soon...or ever. I've already had my fill of that over-glorified mess of sadness and misery; I have no intention of returning to that line of work again.

Still, this is no behavior I'd like Laniakea to take on for herself. Children are like sponges towards their environment, and they pick up even the most minor of things. This effect is exacerbated when in regard to their guardians...so I'll have to watch myself just as much as I watch over her.

Laniakea said, "Don't look so sad Sammy. I'll accept you no matter who you are. You're my uncle!"

Lani walked over and hugs my leg. I smile and reciprocate, and reminisce over how much our relationship has improved over the period of a couple of months...

Despite the stringent rehab I've been going through, these past two months have been some of the best days of my life. I no longer live with daily pain, though my ankle still continues to have a degree of soreness. I've also kicked off my addiction to the theriac (but that's a story for another time). However, by far the biggest positive was my improved relationship with Laniakea, which had blossomed when I finally earned the trust I desired.

For the first few days when I was bedridden, most of the time it was just us two. She'd look after me just as her mother did in Carazan, and it was during this time that we truly got to know each other. I discovered her true personality, her wants, insecurities, and motivations. [I was able to do this because Azazel's influence no longer infested my soul, and Laniakea finally felt at ease around me]. Lani was there every step of the way for my recovery, and my friendliness towards her was allowed to transform into parental love. The precipice of our new relationship could be represented in one moment a couple of weeks ago when Lani came down with a bout of influenza...

* * *

It was early February, and the sky was dark. Hail pounds against the wooden roof and distant cracks of thunder rupture through the air. The midnight moon glistens by the window, and I turn over in my bed for what appears to be a sleepless night. My mind was preoccupied with the health of Laniakea, who had come down with flu shortly after she came back from school today. I hadn't even noticed until she threw up during dinner time...and I could only beat myself up for not catching on sooner.

 _Don't worry yourself Sammy, I'm okay! I just need to sleep._

Crack!

A loud burst of lightning bursts through the sky and exploded onto a nearby boulder. Given the distance it was harmless, but I still can't help flinching from the explosion. Distant memories of a similar sound crowd my mind, and it takes me everything in my power to keep that dam from bursting.

 _It's okay Samuel, you're safe. There's no war here to be anxious about...just calm down._

But...I couldn't. My body trembles uncontrollably, and I recognized that this was the beginning of a panic attack. I wrap myself in my covers to stem the perceived coldness enveloping my body...which only had a nominal effect. Nothing but time was the cure for this ailment.

"S-Sammy?"

My eyes shoot open and I see Laniakea shivering by the front door. Amid my episode, I didn't notice her walk in. It took everything within me to speak to her normally.

I asked, "Lani? Is everything okay?"

She shakes her head and a tear drips down the side of her red cheek. Her voice was stuffy and clammy. It was clear to me she was experiencing a mixture of fear and pain.

She said, "I-I'm cold...and I'm scared. The thunder is keeping me up..."

I take my quivering hand and tucked it behind my back.

I said, "If you want, I can make you some hot tea..."

 _To be honest, I could use some right now to calm these nerves._

Green tea has many healing properties that can help ease the symptoms of the flu. Since adequate medicine doesn't exist in Elibe, it was the best thing I could give her. In addition, the concoction also soothes the nerves...which was something I desperately needed right now.

However, Laniakea wouldn't take me up on my offer. Rather, she suggests something unthinkable.

Laniakea shakes her head, "No...I just. I'm just scared to sleep alone. Can...I sleep with you?"

She coughs and the room goes silent. Rain continues to pound against the roof, which was loud enough to muffle my quiet gasp. It was a good thing there was no light, otherwise, Lani would've gotten upset from the baffled expression across my face.

 _Did..she really ask to sleep with me?_

My first instinct was to say no, but then I realized something.

 _She needs you, Samuel. As her guardian, you have to do everything in your power to protect and love her. She's like your own daughter. There's nothing wrong with this..._

I sigh. Beneath all that trauma and self-imposed barriers was a small child, who deep down, wants to be held and babied. There was nothing wrong with that, but this role was usually fulfilled by a child's proper parent. However, Lumina is currently six feet underground while the father...no. That man has no place in Laniakea's life.

A child needs love to truly grow into a proper human being...and it's my responsibility to do just that.

I said, "Sure Lani. Come over here."

Despite the darkness, I managed to spy a small smile escape from her lips. She trots her way over to me and shyly wraps herself in my blankets.

She said, "Sammy, why are you cold too? Are you sick?"

My hand continues to shake uncontrollably, but somehow Laniakea only notices the chill vibrating through my body. I didn't want her to feel like she was a bother, so I linked the symptom to the weather.

I replied. "No...it's just the snow that's all. Fortunately, I'm not built like most people. Most diseases are harmless to me."

Laniakea, not recognizing the oddness of that remark, doesn't press the issue any further. She presses her hot head on my chest, and I wrapped my arms around her in support.

She whispered, "Hey...I'm not so cold anymore. Thank you..."

I smile and brush her hair. I feel an aura of protectionism over this little girl, and the warmness in her grasp quickly calms my jittered hands. The memories of that traumatic moment in Carazan gets pushed away from the forefront of my mind. I tighten her in my embrace, and soon her anxiety-filled breathing becomes rhythmic respiration.

Laniakea closes her eyes and became still. She's falling asleep faster than I'd expected...and strangely enough so was I. Before we passed out, we managed to exchange some final words.

Laniakea said, "Sammy...can I tell you something?"

"Yeah..."

"I...I'm really grateful you came to find me. I know I was difficult to deal with...but I'm glad you stayed with me. My mommy was right to trust you..."

 _Lumina...I wonder how she's doing right now. If she could see us right now...I wonder she'd feel..._

Laniakea cleared her throat, "I...know what you did for me. You gave up your hand to save my life..."

Calmly, I asked, "How...did you know that?"

She replied, "I overheard Canas talking about it to Niime. He's not exactly good at keeping a secret you know."

I smiled, "Ha...yeah...he isn't..."

"..."

"Sammy...?"

"Yeah?"

"..."

"I love you."

"..."

"I love you too."

* * *

After finishing up our work for the day at Old man Jenkins' house, we had a hearty lunch and then separated. Canas stayed at home to help Camille with some chores, while Laniakea returned to school to receive some tutoring lessons. As for myself, I headed towards the Citidal with Alex to settle some business with Zealot.

We walk towards the front gate and are stopped by a gleeful looking gatekeeper. He was unarmed, with a cyan-blue tinted helmet that covered his eyes.

He said, "Greetings! What business do you two have here today?"

Baffled, Alex asked, "We work here. Last time I remember a guard didn't watch over the front gate. The Fist preaches that every soldier wasted guarding the Citidel is one not providing for the homeland abroad."

The gatekeeper nodded, "You'd be right. My presence here is a simple precaution. Some of the mages have reported feeling drained and uneasy at night. A few have even reported seeing a red-robed man in their dreams. It's my job to make sure no shady characters get in here. Whoever they may be."

I said, "Well, that's fair enough. My name is Samuel and this is Alexia. I'm the head engineer over all the infrastructure projects currently pending in our territory, while Alex is a receptionist who's simply along for the ride. She worked here earlier today, and we both have clearance."

He replied, "Hm, I don't remember my commander mentioning you this afternoon. Do you two have identification?"

I bite my lip. I did not. Neither did Alex.

I replied, "We...do not."

The gatekeeper rubs his chin, "Well if you're under the employ of the Fist you should have some sort of item recognizing your role. The knights have their crests while the mages have their scholarly emblems..."

Alex stirs and comes to a realization. She then retrieves a small metal trinket from her pocket. It was a crest styled in the shape of an ice dragon overlooking a mountain. The symbol of the Fist.

The gatekeeper said, "Oh! That'll work. Now, how about you sir?"

I shrugged my shoulders and produced the only thing that might satisfy this man's inquiry. I pull out my silver pocket watch, whose body had engraved in it a small map constellation of Eris...the goddess of Time.

I asked, "Will this work?"

The gatekeeper pauses, "Erm...I think I remember my boss mentioning a guy who had a pocket watch. Also said something about a girl with bi-colored hair..."

Alex lowers her hood, revealing her most distinguishable feature.

"..."

"My apologies."

He stands aside and we walk through the gate. We begin making our way through the winding halls of the Citadel, which were mostly empty due to it being after hours. Only a few Pegasus cadets lingered around by their dorms, though for the most part, they left us alone.

I looked at my watch and read the time. It was seven past seven; Zealot had requested we be in his office by 7:15.

Alex asked, "Sam, that watch of yours is fairly unique isn't it?"

I responded, "What do you mean?"

She replied, "I haven't seen you adjust the time on that thing at all. It's making me think that your watch doesn't lose any time."

Come to think of it...she was right. Ever since I woke up I never had to adjust my watch for lost time, which was something I usually did after it was obvious the timekeeper lost a few minutes. However, that condition was never met, and I simply forgot about that aspect of watch maintenance. I never bothered to question it...

I said, "Huh...you're right. That's...really weird."

Alex replied, "Wait...so you've only noticed this now?"

I nodded, "Yeah..."

She said, "You should really get that thing checked out. Stuff like that isn't normal. Maybe Niime or Canas might have an answer for you."

I replied, "I will. Thanks for bringing this to my attention..."

 **...**

Zealot's office was indifferent to how it was before. The only change was that now instead of knights sparring outside his window, an empty field of training decoys to its place. The setting sun was visible over the horizon, and the diminishing light made the importance of the nearby candles much more important.

"So...how are the projects pertaining to the road and bridge going?"

Zealot was referring to two projects I was working on. The first was a road connecting Hoger to the southern border, which I had affectionately named "Interstate 35". The road was a north-to-south gravel pathway that more or less followed the 35th longitude on the map. The second is a bridge on the aftermentioned border, which doesn't have a name yet.

I lay down a large blueprint onto Zealot's desk. The paper was isometric, with the three-axis lines haven been painstakingly drawn on by myself. On it was a scaled 3D sketch of the bridge anchored to a mountain face, which had towering trusses at its sides and across it.

Zealot asked, "What is this?"

I replied, "This is a sketch of our proposed bridge. Before, replacing that old bridge was impossible because your people couldn't figure out how to stabilize the bending moment without adding a pillar of support underneath the center of the structure. However, if we use trusses like I've detailed here, we can evenly distribute the load across the beam. This denecitates the use of a support beam, and doesn't require us to jeopardize the lives of our crewmen."

Alex and Zealot raise their brows in response to my engineering jargon. I sighed.

"Okay so, I've figured out how to make this bridge work with the parameters you've set for me. Trusses are these triangular things you see here..."

I point towards the triangular beams of wood at the sides of the bridge.

"They'll make sure the bridge is stable when put under weight. This also means we'll strictly be constructing from atop the mountain face, which is good for worker safety."

Zealot nods his head. I could tell he still had plenty of unspoken questions in his head, but he didn't raise them.

I said, "I can see you're still unsure about this."

He replied, "Yeah...unfortunately I never received the education required to make sense of this. Tell me, are you absolutely certain this'll work?"

I said, "It will. I've run the numbers and the bridge should stand for about a century. It'll have enough support to carry pretty much anything over it, assuming we don't reach the industrial revolution anytime soon..."

"What?"

I give an awkward smile, "Forget about that last part. Anyway, what I'm trying to say is that I'm certain this design will work. I've spent three nights running through simulations...you can ask Alex for verification..."

I try to push away memories of all those numbers. The conglomerate of trigonometry, differential equations, and Greek symbols still left a sour taste in my mouth...

Alex said, "It's true Commander! After our training, he'd lock himself in his room till the following morning. His brain would be so numb he'd go rambling about nonsense. Just this morning he was mumbling something about triangles."

 _Odd...I don't remember eating breakfast. Come to think of it...I don't remember anything about this morning..._

 _I need a vacation. Or maybe just a dip in the local hot spring..._

Zealot takes out a jar of ink along with a writing quill from his desk.

He said, "Alright, you have my confidence. When can we start building?"

I try to keep a poker face, but I couldn't resist allowing my right eye to twitch. I hadn't expected him to greenlight this design from the get-go, and his sudden acceptance caught me by surprise.

I said, "Really?"

He replied, "Yes. You argue a very compelling case. I can see you know what you're talking about...and if you don't then I hope you understand the consequences."

I gulp. In Elibe, any time an engineer built something, their name and livelihood were held liable to their creation. This rule was upheld in a variety of ways, but in regards to my bridge, my life _was_ tethered to the success of my design. When construction ends in a couple of months, the scaffolding will be removed from the structure, and afterward, I'll be expected to be the first person to cross it. Should the bridge fail during my journey, the resulting fall will likely spell my death...

I look Zealot dead in the eye. There were risks involved with both parties in this job. For him, he was involving funds and manpower that could be used towards other things. For myself, my own life along with Lani's well-being was at stake. If this gamble of ours went as planned, together we could provide a bridge that would more easily connect trade routes between Illia and the rest of the world. Perhaps then fewer people would have to fight abroad for cash...but that was still a long way to go until it could be realized. There was still so much to do...however this was a good start.

I said, "I can start procuring the materials and crew tomorrow. If the merchants work with me we can start building in a couple of weeks."

Zealot nods his head, "Very well..."

"Now...where do I sign?"

* * *

Gosh...is this how it's like to have a normal life? To live in a place safe from war and conflict? To return home every day to a loving niece and good friend's family? To live life without an unbearable amount of pain...with my independence tight under my own grasp? Is this...how it's like to be happy?

I take a deep breath, and slowly allow my lower body to engulf itself into the hot water. The green hot spring liquid felt refreshing as it danced around my sore muscles like a ballerina, and the heat gradually sapped the tiredness from them.

I said, "Ahhh...that hits the spot."

I was at one of a handful of hotsprings that dotted the exterior of village. They were a short walk away from the front gate, and were secluded enough to grant some limited isolation. The source of these springs were from geysers that populated the mountainside, which provided steamy geothermal water that worked wonders on the body.

I lower myself further to where only my head was just barely above the surface. This feeling was nothing short than pure bliss...and all my worries from the bridge project began to melt away.

 _Man, I never got the opportunity to use one of these in my old life. I'm glad I got to in this one..._

 _Hm? What's that?_

I spy a small silhouette through the thick steam. It was indistinguishable from a man or a woman, and sheer curiosity latched onto me like a leech. It was neither tall or short...and around the same size of a certain former Pegasus knight I knew.

 _It can't be Alex can it? With all that training we've been going through, I wonder what she looks like under all that winter clothing..._

 _Can't hurt to peak..._

My moral consciousness was barking at me to avoid such a transgression, but my body moved nonetheless. Nothing was in the way between myself and the immature act of peeking, save for a few feet of distance. I quickly (but discreetly) move to close that distance...

"Hey, you! I know you!"

 _Spotted._

My heart sinks. That voice was not serene and feminine at all, rather it was rough like a man. No...much more than that. It projected like a preacher would towards an audience.

 _I...recognize this voice_

I look up and lock eyes with a man I hadn't seen since the very beginning of my journey. He had soggy brown hair that looked like a mop and a cross of Elimine underneath his neck. He was...the heretical preacher from Bulgar.

I said, "Oh my...it's you..."

 _What are you doing here?!_

He said, "It is indeed me! I am Friar Martin, apostle and founder of the new faith. I am surpised to see you here in my hometown...tell me, have you decided to repent for your sins?"

I roll my eyes, "I don't know what you're talking about."

He presses the issue further.

"Are you not the bane of the Lorca? The demon Azazel? Surely there something in your soul that needs cleansing."

I nearly jump out of the water like a fish.

I said, "H-How did you know?"

He smiles and casually leans back against a rock face nearby.

He replied, "I memorized your face when you and that girl were in Bulgar. Several months later and now...I can see you haven't changed much. You still sport that facial hair even though it's a different color, but I've noticed your left eye now contains a tint of green. Even if I didn't, your peculiar accent is a dead giveaway."

 _Drat!_

My eyes expand in horror, and for a moment I was entrenched in fear. Should this man leave this place and tell the outside world of my presence...everything that I've built would be for naught. Lani and I would have to go into hiding...

What he did next was unexpected. He laughs and then...casually patted me on the back.

He said, "Don't look so frightful child. Your secret is safe with me."

Puzzled, I asked, "Why? You know who I am...what I've allowed to happen. Why won't you just tell the world where I am?"

He replied, "The true faith believes that everyone regardless of who or what they are deserves a second chance. Well, except witches. We burn those."

"Witches?"

He nodded, "And warlocks. Anybody that uses the gift of magic for evil deserves to burn at the stake. Tell me, do you know how the real faith can deduce a witch from an ordinary magic user?"

I hesitated, and was almost scared to hear his answer.

I replied, "Uh...no?"

He proudly waves his hand in the air like a circus ringleader.

"There's a certain appearance to them that can give them away. All members of the real faith can tell from a glance..."

I scoffed, "Wait, so you're meaning to tell me that you base your accusations of witchcraft based on whether or not a person looks like a witch?!"

Friar Martin smiles and claps his hands together.

"Exactly! You're smarter than you look young one."

I sighed, "Please...tell me you use another method to determine whether or not some poor lady is a witch..."

He said, "Of course we do! Let's use some logic dear boy. Tell me, why do witches burn so well?"

 _You have got to be kidding me..._

I said truthfully, "Well, in order for combustion to occur you need to refer to the fire triangle..."

He laughed, "The Fire triangle?! What type of baloney is that? We all know that witches burn so well due to the fact that they're composed of wood!"

This...was the moment I realized I was talking to an idiot. I slowly back away...

I said, "I think I'll take my leave...I just remembered I need to pick up my kid from piano lessons. Nice talking to you I suppose..."

I get up from the hot spring and wrap myself in a towel. The friar looks on with a disappointed look on his face and beckons me to stay.

He said, "Wait! I haven't gotten to the part where we compare the witch's weight to a waterfowl!"

I roll my eyes, "See you later."

"But you should stay awh-"

I force a smile.

"Goodbye."

I turn my back to him and walk away. However, like an annoying case of influenza...he doesn't seem to go away.

He exclaimed, "Wait! At least promise me that you won't tell anybody of my presence here! I have the death penalty in three countries...but I wanted to come back home for the upcoming festival!"

I stop dead in my tracks. I was...intrigued...

I asked, "A festival? Do flatter me on the details..."

He said, "I can, but it's a rather large celebration to go over. Allow me a few minutes of your time, and I'll tell you about the great tradition held right here in Hoger. Shoot, after I'm done you may even feel inclined to participate in the great dance. A waltz shared between two lovers under the blue moon..."


	46. The Festival of the White Flower

**Chapter 42: Festival of the White Flower**

 **By SodiumChloride12, derived from Fire Emblem, owned by Nintendo.**

 **A/N: IF YOU HAVEN'T BEEN READING THESE AUTHOR'S NOTES, PLEASE DO SO NOW. THE NEXT MESSAGE IS VERY IMPORTANT.**

 **This chapter is controversial. That's because I'll be focusing on the relationship between Sam and Alex...and I know how y'all feel about the SamxLyn ship. I have my reasoning for this, but off of experience, I've realized that one of the best and most efficient ways of getting over a break up is by quite simply, getting into another relationship. I needed Sam to get over Lyn to further some plot points later on, along with provided some needed motivation for what's going to come up soon...**

 **Soon...**

 **This chapter is the penultimate of the Intermediate series. After this, there will only be one more episode until we return to the main story...coming very soon!**

 **I've had a lot of fun writing this, but I need some feedback from YOU! I set up a poll on my profile page that I would absolutely appreciate if you guys participated in. Regardless of what you do, I'm grateful for y'all taking time out of your day to read my work. Thank you!**

 **N: Samuel decided to take up Friar Martin on his offer. Now, he learns about a festival coming soon...**

* * *

The Festival of the White Flower...

It's a celebration usually held on the first day of April, which is commonly referred to as the first day of spring. It said as much due to the bloom of the famous Illian iris, a white lily that's somehow adapted to the frigid temperature of this land. The marginal increase in temperature has led many Illians to choose this day as a time of remembrance over their lost comrades, though over the years the somber tone of the occasion sobered with time. Now instead of grieving, the Illian attitude had shifted from one of mourning to one of celebration over their often short lives...

Illians who fight under the Fist's banner congregate for one day only at the village...and for many it's a rare treat given the difficult lifestyles they lead. They spend the day reuniting with sparsely contacted friends and relatives, along with meeting new people not under their own detachments. They drink and feast with their hard-earned spoils of war, and it's not uncommon for two strangers to become close friends over the span of a single night. The merriment is truly something to behold and represents the precipice of human happiness between burdened individuals.

However, it is important to note that over the years the holiday began to stress less on the platonic side of things, and more on the romance. Due to the busy lifestyles Illian mercenaries live under, birth rates are low, and the Fist has made it a point of emphasis to encourage contact between opposite sexes during this festival. They've even gone as far to implement a new tradition for the festival several years ago, which comes in the form of the Blue Moon dance.

Unusually, every year on this day a blue moon appears over the night sky. So, in light of their new movement to fan the flames of romance, they decided to hold a dance under this blue moon. As the festivities begin calming down and older folks head home, lovers linger behind and congregate over a small hill overlooking the village. There they dance to their heart's content, with music filling the air up to midnight. It as at that time when the music stops, but it is not to imply that people head home. Far from that...

With the blue moon as their witness, while covered in a veil of silence, the man (or woman) engages in a silent dance with their lover. There they profess to one another, allowing themselves to befall into official courtship. Others who have already done so may feel inclined to take the next step, and instead of ending their dance with a kiss, they present a white lily to their beloved. A gift...to symbolize their proposal of marriage.

Of course, this presents me with a certain dilemma. I don't have a date for this dance, though I'm not sure if I want to go. The whole thing sounds interesting...but who would I go with? Does any of the women here catch my eye?

I'd be kidding myself if I didn't admit my heart still leaned towards Lyn. Even with all of our history...I just can't see myself with anybody else. I just...can't...

...

I need to move on. This lingering void in my heart needs to be filled. If another woman comes into my life, perhaps then I can finally start healing from this subliminal scar. But I have to ask myself...can I do that? If I were put into a situation where a woman confessed her love towards me...would I be in the state of mind to reciprocate?

Ugh...I might be putting too much thought into this. Just do what Sain does, go with your gut. I'll know when I'm ready...and even if I'm not I can rest easy on the fact that I'm still young. Biologically speaking I'm still 19 years old...there's still some time left.

But...if I were to go with someone who could I go with? I'd been gradually opening up with the local villagers again, but none of them have really caught my eye. No one...except for one person.

Alex...

Her freckled face reminds me of the great constellations on the night sky, and her short hair is as magnificent as the greatest canvas. Every time her eyes meet with mine I get this bottomless pit in my stomach...and the feeling only goes away when I speak to her in a casual manner. Her personality is the combination of a serene dancer and an abrasive military confidant, and the resulting explosion makes every experience with her unique. If there was anybody I'd take this dance...it would be her.

Agh...here I go again. Gushing like a hormonal teenager. I suppose at least in that respect I'm still human. But still, that begs the question...a single question I've been playing over and over inside my head ever since that friar told me about this Festival almost two months ago...

Just how the hell do I ask this girl out?!

* * *

"..."

"..."

"..."

"Hey...why are you looking out into space like that Samuel?"

A flood of adrenaline shoots through my body; I break out of my trance and realize where I was. I'm picking up Laniakea from school, and currently waiting outside the school's front gate. Tagging along is Alex, who was on her day-off.

I said, "Oh! It's nothing. I'm just a bit sleepy. I didn't get much sleep last night...I've been thinking a lot at night."

It is the first day of April, the day of the festival. The entire village was in preparation for the event, with the previous night having been spent setting up mini-theatres, temporary housing, and even some carnival-like games. Members of the Fist have been coming in droves since earlier this week, and the small sleepy village quickly evolved into a minor municipality. The calm life I've been leading this far had come to a temporary hiatus, though to be honest, I didn't dread it. I've been waiting for some new excitement to shake things up a bit.

Everybody today was given a day of rest, save for the children. Due to upcoming examinations for the upperclassman, all of them are expected to attend school for a half-day, though only the older kids spent the time studying. For students like Lani, they spent their time outside for what can be interpreted as an extended recess. For myself, I used my free time hanging out with Canas and Alex...

 _Though honestly...it's been more with the latter..._

Alex said, "Samuel! You're doing it again! Uh…why are you looking at me like that?"

I subconsciously lose myself in my thoughts, however I didn't understand that I was looking directly at Alexia.

 _Man, her eyes are so tantalizing. I feel like I can look at them all day..._

"Oh! A staring contest! Something to pass the time...I can't believe I didn't think about it first. Hey, let's put a wager on this. If I win...you have to do whatever I say!"

 _Yeah...all day. If only I could see these eyes in my dreams...that'd be sweet..._

"I'll take that as a yes."

Alex locks her eyes with mine, and for a moment we were entrenched in an imaginary one-sided battle. Nearby, a variety of grandparents and other guardians looked at us with puzzling expressions.

"Why are they staring at each other?"

"I don't know, just don't question it."

"Is this how the current generation flirts nowadays? Back in my time, we'd just smooch behind the back of the commander."

"Honey! Stop it! Don't you have any shame?!"

 _...huh?_

I blinked. Alex's face lights up and she pumps her fist in the air.

She said, "I did it! I win!"

I asked meekly, "What...?"

Running on her own personal high, she takes my hand and brings it closer to her. I'm too confused to resist.

She said, "Alright! Since I won, you have to do whatever I say for the rest of the day."

"I...don't recall agreeing to that."

"Nonsense! Come on, it'll be fun! Don't tell you don't like having fun."

I roll my eyes and discreetly gesture towards the crowd raising their brows at us.

I whispered, "Well I do...but we're creating a scene right now Alexia. Can we talk about this later?"

She shakes her head, "No. Agree to me right now that you'll be my servant until midnight tonight. If you don't, I'll tell Laniakea…"

 _Sammy...why are you being mean to Alex? Why are you being a bad influence to me?_

I gulped, "Oh no...please don't do that. Anything but that."

Alexia gives me a mischievous smile. It was an expression that could only be conceived by someone that had a man firmly wrapped around their finger.

"So what will it be?"

I felt dozens of eyeballs fall upon me. Judgemental whispers were gradually beginning to fill the air, and the sensation was suffocating enough to force anybody to cave in.

I sighed, "F...Fine. You win."

Alex giggled, "You've made the right choice my little puppy dog."

"What did you call me?!"

She playfully looks away, "Oh nothing.,."

Before I could say anything else, the front door of the school opens. A flood of children ranging from early adolescence to early teens steam towards their guardians, and the formerly relatively still air explodes with activity. One of these children was the light of my life...Laniakea...

She approaches us with a small red satchel hung around her shoulder, which carried all of her school supplies. Her clothes were moderately dirty from recess, but the happiness strewn about her face was enough to make me forget about the effort required to get them clean again. Surprisingly, she didn't come alone; by her side was an equally optimistic young lad with brownish hair.

She said, "Sammy! Alex! Hi!"

I smiled, and hug her.

I said, "Hey! Did you have a good day at school today?"

She nodded, "Yeah I did! So much fun! I got to play with my friends today instead of being cooped up in the schoolhouse..."

While I was greeting Laniakea, Alexia casually observed the young boy that had tagged along with her. He had an anxious look on his face and avoided eye contact with the two nearby adults. His clothes were nothing more than rags, with a small white patch stitched to the lower end of his shirt.

Alexia asked, "Laniakea, whose the little guy you brought with you today?"

"Oh!"

Laniakea released herself from my grasp and takes the young lad by the hand. The speechless boy was blushing uncontrollably, though I was unsure if it was more from the extra attention or from Laniakea's touchy nature.

Still, the sight of her holding another's hand that wasn't my own sent a flutter of jealousy through my body. It took everything within me to keep myself from fuming, though I doubted anybody could ignore the smokestacks rising from my ears.

Laniakea said, "This is my friend Manny. He's an orphan boy...and my best friend! Say hi to my uncle and his girlfriend, Manny!"

Our faces went red like a tomato. I secretly cursed myself for not grooming some more finesse into her personality as I had promised myself.

 _Why. Is. She. So. Blunt?_

Manny steps forward and politely extends his hand towards me. Despite my initial reservations for this boy, I couldn't help but feel impressed by his etiquette.

He said, "H-Hello. My name is Manny, nice to meet you! Do you mind if I can play with Lani today? I've already asked the father if I could...and he said yes."

I hesitate. I had wanted to spend the day with Lani myself...but now this boy was getting in the way of that. However, before I could say no, I feel a sting of pain inflict the lower part of my back. It didn't take much to realize the source of it.

 _Alexia...?!_

Alexia whispered, "As my servant, I order you to accept the young man's request. Do it or I'll pinch you again."

The threat of further pain was enough for me to bend to her will.

I choked, "Sure. If you need anything, make sure to ask me or _Alexia_ for help. Just stick around the village and don't get into any trouble. If you do I'll have your h-"

I stop mid-sentence. Alex had pinched me again.

She whispered, "Can't you see this boy is burdened enough? Just let him and your daughter be kids..."

 _I'll have your head for this Alexia!_

Manny asked, "Erm, w-what was that you said, mister...Samuel right?"

I said, "Yeah. Just have fun, kid. Don't stay up too late... _okay_?"

Manny nods and respectfully bowed.

"I'll d-do just that mister!"

 _On the Creator...this woman..._

I sigh and watch as the two walk off towards the village proper. They were likely heading for the local library, where they'd spend the day reading off children's stories about knights in shining armor. I knew the librarian that worked there personally, so this by no means an unsupervised outing. She'll probably give them some sort of fun reading assignment for the day to reaffirm what they'd learned in school...

Just as the two were beginning to disappear past a corner, Laniakea stops to turn back towards me. She looks at me with those same red child-like eyes, and all I could do was smile at her warmly.

She said, "I love you, Sammy! I'll see you and Alex later!"

She shoots a glance at Alex...and winks.

"Keep him busy for me okay? Have fun!"

Alexia gets flustered again, while I'm left speechless with a gaping mouth. I had come to a cruel realization.

 _She...she's in on this! They set me up! They've been planning for this to happen from the start...oh my Lani...why would you betray me like this?!_

I said, "I can't believe this..."

Alexia composes herself and then grabbed me by the arm. She was awfully forceful about it too...but I'd be lying if I didn't admit that I enjoyed it.

She said, "Alright tough guy...I think you know what this means right?"

I gulped, "Yeah...you're going to have me all to yourself for the day. Yippee."

She laughs and then pulls me to walk with her. We were going somewhere...but I didn't know where.

She said, "Come on, treat me to some ice cream. I hear they're making some over by the town's square today."

I rolled my eyes, "So you're meaning to tell me that instead of having some quality time with my niece...I'm going on an ice cream date?"

She frowns, and then looked away, "Well...it doesn't have to be a date..."

I sigh, and all the pent up anxiety I had restricting my motion faded away. Now was the time to shoot my shot...and to set the tone for the afternoon...

"Sam...what are you doing?"

I slowly guide my hand away from her arm...and towards her shoulder. I wrap it around her upper body and playfully bring the former Pegasus knight close. I feel a token of resistance, but it soon evaporated once she realized what I was doing.

I said, "I want this to be a date. If you'll have me of course..."

She smiles and then reciprocates by leaning in towards my grasp. At this point, all of the students and guardians had already vacated the premises, so it was just us. Two lovesick teenagers near an empty schoolhouse in a winter wonderland.

She said, "I wouldn't have it any other way..."

* * *

 **Later...**

I hold my date close as the ice cream man implants his scoop deep into the milky concoction stored in his humble cart. The temperature was cold, but the surrounding environment was colder. Yet, despite that, we still felt compelled to indulge in this foreign delicacy together. The opportunity was too good to pass up here at the village square.

The Bernish vendor asked, "So...I've got Vanilla for the young lady. What flavor do you desire? I've got Vanilla, Chocolate, Strawberry..."

The village square was packed with soldiers returning from their tours of duty. Young men were happily drinking away at the nearby taverns, while people of all ages were enjoying the foreign merchants that had decided to take up shop here during the festival. The influx of people and money flowing through the town was too much of a business opportunity to pass up, though the treacherous journey had pushed away all but the most dedicated of merchants. That may change by the next festival once the bridge and road are complete.

Alex asked, "Oh! Do you happen to have a peach flavor? I know Samuel just _loves_ peaches."

I blush slightly as I realize that she had remembered such a small detail about me. I had mentioned this during a conversation we shared when I was first bedridden, though I'd figured she would have forgotten about it by now. Her added attention towards me was...touching.

The Bernian takes a look into his cart and then shakes his head.

"I'm afraid not. I wasn't able to procure any peaches back at home. The cargo ship sending them over from Etruria was hijacked by some pirates off the coast of Carazan. I'm truly sorry."

 _Carazan...I wonder how it's going over there. Has the situation deteriorated to the point where lawless pirates roam free? I know I tried to feign apathy towards their plight, but I really hope Carvel's faction comes out on top..._

I said, "It's no problem at all. Do you have Butter Pecan (Peh-con)?"

He shoots me a puzzled look, "Butter Pecan (Peh-con)? Don't you mean Butter Pecan (Pee-can)?"

 _Blast, there goes my accent again..._

"Erm...I'll just take Vanilla please..."

I take the ice cream and we take a seat on a nearby park bench. The air was calm and serene, with the ancient brick floor adding a factor of ambiance to the scenery. Nearby, a brother and sister were catching up over a cup of tea, and the overall sense was amicable and laidback.

Alex takes a chomp from her ice cream and allows the flavor to dance around her tongue. She was clearly enjoying herself, with her characteristic smile front and center for all to see.

She said, "This is amazing! I've never had ice cream before...and I'm glad I got to try some."

I nodded approvingly and wrapped my arm around her again. She instinctively pushes inward towards my shoulder.

I said, "I'm glad too. You should try a different flavor besides vanilla next time though. You've only touched the surface of how good ice cream can be."

She raises her brow curiously, "Oh? You speak as if you've had ice cream before. Please enlighten me on your wisdom."

In my old life, I absolutely _loved_ ice cream. I'd often go to a parlor after major school events like sports games, concerts, or even just to chill with friends. Admittedly, my affection for it had given me more than one cavity over my lifetime...but I have no regrets.

Of course, I can't tell her all that though. That'd open the door to a multitude of questions that are better left unanswered, so I regrettably make up something on the spot.

I said, "Er...I had somewhat of an affluence to it growing up. To be honest with you, I hadn't had some in a long time. I'm really glad we came here."

I eye the ice cream, and then back at my date. Her eyes radiated like stars in the night sky, and my heart flips.

I added, "I don't know what's better...you or the ice cream."

Alex rolled her eyes, "Pfft. Don't tell me you're suggesting that the ice cream is better. You're such a bad flirt."

I replied, "You wound me, my dear. You're so much better than this ice cream. I'd go an eternity without ice cream if it meant I'd spend a single day with you."

Alexia's face turns bright red. Unlike my previous remark, this one was spot on.

She said, "Samuel...you're far too kind."

We lose each other within the gazes of our eyes. Her pair of blue orbs were interlocked with my respective green and brown...and for a moment neither of us said a word. We just enjoyed the presence of each other...along with the jovial aura in the air.

She said, "You know...it's funny. I swore your left eye was gold instead of green...but I suppose I'm wrong."

I shook my head, "No...you'd be right. It did use to be gold, but something happens at Mt. Merki and it changed color. I still don't know the explanation for it..."

Alex questions me like a concerned parent would towards their child.

"By Elimine, are you alright? Do you feel okay? If we have to we can go see Niime right now."

I replied, "No it's fine. Niime said she didn't know what was going on, but she thinks I'll be alright. Besides, it's been several months since I woke up...something would have had to happen by now."

Alex nodded...then sighs. Her breath was one of relief...but also of deep concern.

She said, "I see. I'm just...a little worried. I don't know what Lani would do with herself if you were to pass. I don't what _I_ would do either..."

I replied, "Don't worry. The scars of my previous battles may remain, but my most dangerous days are behind me now. I could say the same for you...right?"

I take my left hand and brush over Alex's right arm. She had a deep scar there from a lance wound she suffered long ago, though now it was barely recognizable. She responds by lightly grasping my face, and resting her finger above the cut Rath had inflicted on me nearly one year ago. The skin was storied and rough to the touch.

Alex said, "Yes. I'm afraid my body is no longer in the state where I can fight anymore. If it wasn't for the Commander's generosity...I'd most certainly be living in poverty right now."

Intrigued, I ask, "How so?"

She cleared her throat, "You see, when I wobbled my way back home, I no longer had the means of supporting myself. I threw myself at the mercy of the Fist...hoping on the off chance they'd be able to set me up with some sort of arrangement. However, the Fist can only keep a select few non-combatants employed in their organization... but the Commander stepped in and gave me the position I have now. The pay isn't great...but it's much better than begging in the streets of some foreign country."

"Alexia..."

She continued, "War may have taken some of my independence, however, I will not allow it to take my life. I worked hard to get the money needed to procure this prosthetic, and once I did I worked even harder to muster the strength to live life normally. I went through a strength regimen similar to the one I made you go through...and I'm glad to say I succeeded..."

She turns towards me and rests her head on my chest.

"When you appeared at the Citadel...I have to admit that I was elated. Seeing my savior in the flesh again pushed me to want to help you in some way, and when you struggled with your lack of strength I knew I had my chance. Watching you grow from barely walking to lifting whole boulders brought so much happiness to my heart. However, as time went by...the seed of affection within me grew..."

"I still remember when I was first enslaved vividly, that period was the lowest point of my life. I was in a dreadful place with nothing to look forward to but a likely short life in the mines...but you changed that. You and your friends rescued us and gave me back my freedom...and for that, I am eternally grateful..."

"I...think that's when I started having feelings for you. Seeing you on that ship reminded me of heroes you hear about in children's books. I think what I'm trying to say is..."

She lifts her head and lets her chin rest on my chest. Her eyes were locked with mine...

She said, "Samuel...you're my hero."

"Alexia..."

I could do nothing but mutter her name silently. I...didn't realize how much I meant to this girl until now. The sensation made me a tad bit nervous...and I was unsure if I could live up to her grand expectation of a man...

A brisk breeze brushes through the town square, sending a chill down our spines. It was at moments like these that I regret maintaining a clean-shaven face; I had cut the unkempt jungle along with the long unruly locks atop my head recently. This was to represent my transition from a wandering fugitive to an established professional, and I took great pride in keeping proper hygiene. However, despite the increase in long-term respectability this had granted me, this also meant I was cold. Very cold.

I said, "Brrrr. I regret eating that ice cream now."

Alexia laughs, but I could tell she was freezing as well. We had both eaten the ice cream after all.

I get up and offer her my hand. She accepts, and I start pulling her away towards me.

She asked, "Oh? Where are we going now?"

I smile and make a zipping motion on my lips.

I said, "It's a little bit of a secret. Just a little place we can warm up..."

* * *

They say a house represents many things to a man. For some, it's just a place to sleep after long hours on the job, while for others it's a sanctuary to enjoy one's own free time. Yet, for the family man, a house takes on an added function. The home now has to account for the wants and needs of others inside the household, so in a way, the place loses some of it's allegiance to one single person. However, in doing that the house also takes on a grander purpose...one that looks toward the future.

Laniakea and I have a home that is a quaint place, tucked behind a sleepy corner of the village. It's quite a ways from the relatively lively parts of the village, but this added isolation came with certain benefits. Nights are much more sleepable than in Canas' house, not to mention more room than the plots of land closer to the city center.

It was here where I decided to bring Alexia. I had been discreetly working on this place for a while now, and she hadn't heard much about it. I thought now would be a good time for us to warm up by my cozy little fireplace and to engage in some amicable small talk.

I open the door to my abode and let my guest in. Her face was beaming with wonder, and she took a moment look around.

She said, "Woah...this is amazing. I like how the color of the carpet matches with the sofa...oh!"

She walks over to a hanging decoration I had in the living room. It was a yellow wooden sol styled in the Latin style, with crudely painted green eyes and face.

She asked, "What is this? I've never seen anything like it."

I replied, "Well er...it's a cultural interpretation of the sun. We called it the _sol_...I just have it around as a keepsake of simpler times."

Curious, she asked, "Huh...I always figured you came from a different culture. Do you mind if I ask where you come from? This culture seems really fascinating to me."

 _Oh boy...I have to be vague about this. She can't know I really come from another world._

I said, "Well...I come from a tribe west of Carazan. My father was a Lycian trapper while my mother was a..."

"How do I say this..."

I think of the first thing that would absolutely shut down further questioning.

"She was native but...you know...she didn't exactly have the most honorable profession."

Alex pauses for a moment and was unsure of what I had implied. It didn't take her long to figure out though.

She said, "Oh! I'm really sorry, you must've had a rough upbringing like myself. You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

"Yeah...I'd appreciate that..."

I sighed. It didn't feel good to lie to Alexia...but I couldn't afford to compromise my position here. The fewer people that knew the truth about me...the better.

 _What an awkward note to end on...I really wish I could tell her more. But I can't..._

She said, "Well, you said you wanted to warm up, right? I'm getting really cold..."

I smiled. It was an innate trait for Alex to easily read the emotions within a person, and she recognized the need to change the topic of the conversation. I greatly appreciated this side of her...even if she did come out as brash at times.

I replied, "Yeah...I have some dry wood in the shed outside. Give me a minute to go get that. While I'm doing that...can you prepare some tea? I should have some in the cupboard right over there..."

* * *

 **That Evening, approximately 10:30 pm, at the festival...**

The sun hung low over the horizon, and the town square buzzed with activity. Dozens of young Illian men and women feasted upon mounds of beef, greens, lamb, and other foodstuffs. Music rings through the air, and some of the more ambitious youngsters went as far as to dance along with it. Soldiers never made for good dancers however, but the jovial attitude let them save face.

We were all sitting near a large circular table that reminded me of the fabled tales of King Arthur. Though the vast majority of the festival-goers were soldiers of the Fist, certain members of the non-combatants were allowed to attend. Two of these individuals included myself and Alexia...

I said, "Woah...I never thought I'd see a festival of this magnitude in Illia. I thought y'all tried to stay away from such demonstrations of gluttony."

Alexia replied, "We do...but today is the lone exception to that rule. Thing is, most troops are too occupied with external assignments...and only a relative minority of people can actually come to this festival. Most Fist members can only hope to come to the White Flower Festival just once in their lifetimes. Rest assured that when they do, they'll take every opportunity to indulge when they can."

 _So...this is some sort of Illian Rumspringa?_

I said, "I suppose that's fair. I'm assuming this is your first time here then?"

She nods, "Yeah, I feel blessed. Had that mage's attack hit its mark, I likely wouldn't be here right now..."

Splash!

 _Oh, come on! Really?!_

My eyes widen with shock as a full glass of wine spews out onto my back. The purple robe was stained even darker from the liquid, and I look up with a distasteful expression towards the drunk brunette who had defiled my outfit.

I said, "Hey, excuse me, you just spilled wine on me."

The brunette doesn't seem to notice, and she scurries towards her friend group that had congregated some ways again. I sighed and tried to clean up the mess however way I can.

"This sucks."

Alex gave me a pitied expression and then hands me her handkerchief.

She said, "Here take this. I'm really sorry this had to happen to you. It's going to take forever to wash that stain off."

I said, "Yuck...I think I'm going to go to the restroom real quick. There should be one in the tavern right?"

She nods and points me towards the direction of an establishment she knew the owner of.

"You should go to Rypka's place. I'm well acquainted with him...and I think he'll accommodate you well..."

* * *

 **Torchy's Tavern, approximately 11 pm...**

I scampered my way through the bustling square and somehow made it Rypka's tavern, formerly known as "Torchy's Tavern". It was a nice place complete with a small bar and a low-key enviroment consisting of a few festival-goers playing a good-natured game of go-fish on rounded tables. A tipsy Illian footsoldier was idly playing some folk tunes on a flute, though nobody around seemed to care about his mediocre playing. I walk over to the bartender and sit down on a simple wooden stool.

He was a rough-looking man with scarring on his neck, which was uncannily similar to my own. He had dark blue hair coupled with a clean-shaven face and spoke with an exaggerated Illian [Scandinavian] accent.

He said, "Hello, how may I help you tonight? Can I interest you in our famous ale?"

I shook my head, "No...sorry. I'm afraid I've been staving off from alcohol for a while now. Erm...I'm actually looking for a man named Rypka. I'm...in quite the pickle right now..."

He gives off a puzzled expression, "I'm Rypka. What do you mean you're in quite the pickle? Are you a foreigner? I can tell from the way you speak."

I scratch the back of my head, "Well...yes and no. What I meant is that I have a problem..."

I turn to my side and reveal a large plot of red wine on my robes. The grizzled man flinched.

I continued, "Alexia said you could help me...please do. The dance is in a few hours and I don't want to have my special moment with her looking like this."

Rypka pauses, and for a moment I thought he would deny my plea for aid. However, any uncertainty I had evaporated the instant I saw his warm smile.

He said, "Aye! So you're the man my niece always talks about. Sure...I think I can help you..."

A tad bit confused, I raise my eyebrow.

"Niece?"

He nods, "Yes. I am Alexia's blood uncle. We didn't really talk much when we were younger though. I was traveling the world fighting in exhibitions matches as a top tier boxer, and I never got the news that my sister had passed away along with her husband. By the time I found out, Alex had already passed her 15th birthday. Such is the consequence of living in a world where information spreads so slowly..."

"But that's a story for another time. Let me go get some spare clothing from upstairs. I still have some of the finer robes from my fighting days that might fit you."

Feeling blessed, I nodded approvingly.

"Thank you Mr. Rypka."

Before leaving, however, he takes an empty glass mug and fills it to the brim with apple cider.

He said, "Here, in the meantime take this. Don't worry about the money, view this as a gift from your potential uncle-in-law."

He promptly leaves, and for a few minutes, I was alone by the bar. I took the opportunity to observe the quaint little establishment Rypka had built for himself. Various framed medals of victorious bouts hung on the wall, along with a trophy case that was crowned with a tower of gold and silver that read: _Number One Heavyweight Champion of the World._ I look back towards the group of people playing go-fish and notice that one of the women was staring right at me...with an expression of bewilderment on her face.

 _Oh no..._

She had lavender hair and blue-ish green eyes. Her light blue armor was snug against her small frame, which I recognized belonging to a Pegasus knight. Not just any Pegasus knight either.

Unable to hold in our emotions, we blurted out each other's names.

"Florina?!"

"Samuel?!"

My first instinct was to back away, but I knew that would only arouse suspicion. Instead, I stood my ground and hoped that somehow by the end of the day I'd still be a free man.

Our interaction was caught on by the dealer of the card game. His eyes were bloodshot from the lack of sleep, and his whole aura reminded me of the many drunk college students I ran into during my old life. (I should know, I was one of them).

He said, "*Hic* Hey Florina, is this a friend of yours? *Hic* You two seem to know each other."

Florina says nothing, and her feet slightly tremble with fear. She likely still felt uneasy over the show of force Azazel had demonstrated in Castle Caelin...so I couldn't blame her. Still, she was subtle enough about it that nobody besides myself had noticed this...which I immediately took advantage of.

 _Ugh...this isn't right. I don't want to mess with Florina like this...but I need to save my own skin._

I mustered the best smile I could, and spoke like Florina was my childhood friend.

I said, "Florina! It's been a while, how have you been?"

She remains speechless, and she froze up. Her body stood still like a totem pole, and I realize this behavior could have detrimental effects on her peers' suspicions of me. I needed to solicit some type of positive reaction from her, or at the very least set up a situation where we could talk one-on-one. Thinking fast, I concoct a scheme to do just that.

"Oh no!"

I fake trip and splash apple cider all over Florina's blouse. The timid Pegasus knight shrieks in horror, and I immediately cover her with apologies.

I said, "Florina! I'm so sorry! Here, let me help you clean this up..."

I knew how sensitive Florina was towards men. So, I had to swallow my gut when I took her by the hand and passive-aggressively pulled her into a spare room. Fortunately for me, Florina was too overwhelmed by the physical contact to resist, and her companions were none the wiser...

 **...**

I half-way shut the door so that Florina didn't feel like she was trapped. The poor girl was shivering in fear and looked at me like she had just seen a ghost.

I said, "Florina...its been a while."

Florina replied, "W-Why w-would y-you splash apple c-cider on my dress?"

I...truly felt sorry about that. I had come here to get a spare set of clothing for something similar...and yet here I am doing it to her. The shame...

I said, "I...had to come up with an excuse to talk to you one on one. I didn't think you'd come here...are you a member of the Fist?"

She nodded, "Y-Yeah...but why does that c-concern you?"

I replied, "Well...I happen to work for them too. Not in the business of war, however. I've taken on more...productive pursuits lately."

Florina swipes off an anxious bead of sweat and cuts to the question that had been haunting her mind.

She said, "A-Are you going to kill me?"

 _Agh...that's right. She has every reason to be scared of me._

"No, I'm not. Whether you want to reciprocate or not, I value the relationship we had before...everything happened."

Florina replied, "B-But what a-about A-Azazel? W-What's stopping h-him from h-hurting m-me?"

I said bluntly, "He's dead. The world doesn't have to worry about him anymore. I don't know how...but I managed to kill him with my own two hands."

Florina's eyes widen with shock...and then with relief. Her posture loosens as she realized she was in no immediate danger. She was after all talking to Samuel...not Azazel as she feared.

She said, "Oh...I was worried for a minute there. Erm...how are you doing Samuel?"

My face beamed, "Amazing actually. I've managed to rehab from most of my injuries and now I have a good job that I enjoy. I even have a family now; I've become the guardian of a little girl. A family, good job, and a beautiful girlfriend...what more can a man want right?"

"Girlfriend?"

My heart sinks. I just realized I made a serious midstep. In my shortsighted banter about my personal life...I had failed to remember about Florina's relationship to Lyn. My former lover...

Stammering, I said, "Well...Erm...Uhh...

I pause and take a deep breath. There was way around this now, I had to come clean.

"Yeah. I have a girlfriend. She's nice and I...I knew Lyn didn't love me anymore. I tried to get over her...I-I really did. But...I found that the only way to fill this void in my heart was by replacing her role in my life with someone else. Is there...anything wrong with that?"

Florina hesitates, and was searching her mind for answers. Eventually, she came up with something that deepened that aftermentioned void even more.

She said, "No...I'm a-actually quite relieved. Lyn was heartbroken too when you turned into Azazel...and she thought she lost you forever. She wanted to kill that demon because he had taken everyone she had ever loved...but she put that goal on hold. She longed for time with her grandfather...and for a while she was content with just him. But..."

"The void left by you was too great to live with. She grew depressed, and no one could coax her out of it...not even me. But that all changed when she did find that man. A person she had grown to rely on...and whom held great respect for her ideals and personality. That man's name is..."

"Stop."

I had heard enough, I didn't want to know the name of her new suitor. Every word coming out of her mouth sounded like It was likely some noble she had come across at a ball...somebody that was probably of higher financial and social status than me. I'm just a lowly peasant who likes numbers...that's all. I never had any business flirting with a princess of all people.

Florina looks at me with a concerned expression.

"Oh...I'm sorry. I t-thought you'd be fine with it. I...I never should have said anything."

 _How...how could this be? My heart...it's pounding so fast. I feel like my gut is twisting in a way its never done so before. I...do I still love Lyn?_

 _I...I do. But...I need to move on. I'm happy for her for finding happiness. I'm happy too..._

 _I'm happy for her..._

Despite those words that I kept repeating in my head, it still took everything in my power to say these next few words.

"I...I'm happy for her. I'm glad she's found happiness. I...I don't think it could've been something that was within my means to provide..."

"Samuel..."

I sigh...and allow my heartbeat to calm down. Now was no time to ponder over past wounds. I'm a man, with a daughter and a loving woman to possibly share my life with. I can't keep thinking about Lyn...it's unhealthy. That went for her too...the more I keep out of her life the better.

That's why I had to make sure I secured Florina's silence.

I said, "Florina...can I ask you a favor. This will likely be the last I'll ever see you again. But it's important for Lyn and I that you do this."

"Sure...what?"

I sighed, "I need you to pretend that you never saw me. It's better for her if she thinks I'm gone...and I need you to tell her that Azazel is dead. He was felled by an Illian warrior amid the summit of Mt. Merki."

Florina shook her head, "Samuel...you know I can't lie. I owe fealty to her...and I consider her my best friend."

 _She's really going to make me do this is she?_

Pride was a trait I held close to me. Yet, I still felt compelled to fall onto my knees...and beg.

"Samuel...what are you doing?!"

I said, "Please. If Lyn continues to think that I'm alive...then she'll never stop thinking that Azazel still lives. I want her to live a long life without being hampered with the weight of revenge in her soul. Please...if you tell her I'm here then she'll come for me."

Florina replied, "I'll just tell her A-Azazel is dead. She'll want n-nothing to do with you..."

 _That stung...a lot._

I said, "Then she'll ask how you found out about that information. You said it yourself...you won't lie to her. Just say you heard about Azazel's demise from a peer in the festival."

Florina was conflicted. On one hand, she didn't want to lie to her best friend...but she understood that telling the truth would come a great cost. After a few minutes of persuasion from me...she finally conceded.

"Fine..."

I smiled and finally stood up from my humble position.

I said, "Thank you, Florina. Even though I may never see you again...I'm truly glad to have run into you..."

"I'll cherish our friendship until the day I die..."

* * *

 **Midnight...**

The pleasant blue moon hovers in the sky. Its bright blue halo was as cool as the somber music that filled the air, and its melody carried with it a rhythmic groove. The slow tempo encouraged dancing...

We were at the fabled Blue Moon dance. A dozen or so couples danced with their arms entrapped with each other, and affection was visible deep in their eyes. The ground was dotted with footsteps against the white snow, with the pattern forming a weird conglomerate of controlled chaos. One of these dancers was myself, who was struggling to dance to this foreign tune.

 _One and two, three, four. One and two, three, four. One and-_

I cross my feet over right when the time signature changes. Now, it was a waltz. My lack of finesse causes me to nearly step on my partner's feet.

 _One, two, three. One, two, three. This is a waltz, Samuel! Get in the game!_

"Wow...it looks like we should've spent some time practicing...huh?"

I subtly smile and laughed it off.

"Haha...yeah. I didn't think I'd be dancing here with you...Alexia."

She reciprocated with her own warm smile, and then she looks out toward the looming blue moon.

She said, "Indeed. When we first met, I thought you were a man simply out of my reach. I was a lowly slave girl...and you were a hero flanked by powerful friends."

"Alexia..."

The music hits a major chord, and then I flip her around. She spins and spins but ultimately fell back onto my arms.

She said, "Samuel...can I tell you something?"

We reset our position and I gracefully interlock her hands with mine. We returned to our ballad in three, and our faces were closer than they ever were before.

"Of course Alex...anything."

She said, "I...I have a confession to make. Ever since I first saw you on my day of liberation...I couldn't help but feel infatuated by your presence..."

She crosses her arms across her chest and leans back against me. We elegantly fall backward and together we dive towards the floor, only to rise again like the morning sun.

"No matter what you do...no matter what you become...I want you to know I'll always be with you. You're my savior and my knight in shining armor. You're...my hero..."

The time signature changes again, this time taking a more sluggish tempo. The music had now changed back into a ballad in four. This time, Alex was the one caught off guard, and she rolls back on her prosthetic just in time for me to catch her.

Unfazed, she continued, "Don't you think it was fate for us to meet? For you to rescue me in my time of need...and for us to help each other grow as people. To think...I had only managed to meet you because the Commander requested that I come in on my day off. Had he never done that, it's quite possible we never would have met..."

I lift her back up on her own two feet, and suddenly the music stops. Silence filled the air, and all I could do was look into Alexia's deep blue eyes.

She said, "I think what I'm trying to say Samuel...is that..."

She reveals something she had kept hidden within her pocket. It was a white lily; the famed Illian Iris. My heart skips a bit.

"Alexia..."

 _Is...she going to ask to marry me? We've only known each other for a few months now...but..._

She said in a hushed voice, "I love you, Sam. With this flower...I hope to make our relationship official. Will...you court me?"

My mind breathed a sigh of relief. Fortunately for me, it appeared that Friar Martin had fed me incorrect information. Presenting a white flower did not represent a proposal of marriage...rather it represented the budding beginning of new love.

I smiled...I had no reason to say no. Lyn has moved on after all...and it was time that I did too...

"Samuel!"

I lift off her feet and caress her in my own arms. Her colorful hair breezed effortlessly under the blue moon...emphasizing her already limitless beauty.

I whispered, "I accept. I hope that I can replace this flower with a ring someday..."

Then, without saying another word, I met my lips with hers. Alexia was taken by surprise, but she sooner allowed herself to be blessed with my expression of love, and she leans in closer...

She said, "Here's to a better future. For the both of us...and for Little Lani."

I nodded and kissed her again. No other words were needed...

My life had reached its peak. Everything was trending in the right direction, and nothing but happy living was visible over the horizon. I could live like this forever...

If only I knew of the travesty to come...


	47. Pleasant Memories

**Chapter 43: Pleasant Memories**

 **By SodiumChloride12, derived from Fire Emblem, owned by Nintendo.**

 **A/N: Surprise! Happy Turkey Day to all my readers, and I hope y'all spend today with your loved ones. Even if you're not American, I still recommend sending a text to your friends to let them know how much you appreciate them. Sometimes little gestures of kindness can go a long way...**

 **This is the last chapter of the intermediate series. After this, things are going to go from 0-100 fairly quickly, so appreciate the fluff when you can. I've already written next week's chapter and boy...it's a doozy.**

 **On a side note, I'm really excited about the sequel after this. I'm thinking about providing a large role for Clarine in this one...though that's all I say about that. Feel free to drop whatever ideas you have in my PM, all feedback is appreciated!**

 **N: Samuel happily continues life in Hoger. Meanwhile, something interesting brews back in the Lycian capital of Ostia...**

* * *

 **Castle Ostia...**

The blue moon shines through the towering windows of Castle Ostia. The air is calm and still, yet far from dead. Not a sound was audible through the long winding hallways, save for a muffled conversation contained within the solitary throne room.

Dim torches light up a barely visible mural describing a distant tale. Nearby, a stocky, serious-looking monarch scratches the end of his short blue beard. At his sides stood two heavily armored knights, and to his front was a short man with brown hair. The latter was obviously the youngest here...and his relatively high voice confirmed that fact.

He said, "Lord Uther, I have arrived to deliver my report. There is a certain development in the Illian region that you should be aware of."

Uther nods and beckons his subject to carry on.

Uther replied, "Very well Matthew. Get on with it."

Matthew clears his throat, "Ahem. Our contact has intercepted information from the Black Fang. It..pertains to the Azazel problem. Samuel has been discovered living among Barigan's Fist in southern Illia.

Uther feels a hint of aggression arise from his gut. He thought...like many others...that Samuel had perished from the brutal Sacaen winter.

He said, "Interesting...and they're okay with this?"

Matthew shrugged his shoulders, "Well...to my knowledge they're either oblivious to the fact that he's Azazel...or they've devised a way to remove the demon. I've paid off a higher-up from the Fist, and I believe that the latter may be the case."

Uther leans back against his throne and looks out towards a faintly lit mural. It showed a scene of a Druid making a deal with the devil, only for him to betray that demon for the forces of good.

He said, "Huh...that's really...good. So I take Azazel is no longer a threat?"

Matthew nodded, "It would appear so. He's settled down into ordinary civilian life and has adopted a young child into his household. He currently works as an engineer for the Fist in a scheme to improve their horrid infrastructure."

Uther takes a deep breath. He had to appreciate the Fist's resourcefulness. Hiring an engineer from the guild was well beyond their ability to pay, and by employing this tactician they had managed to secure a better chance for their future.

Matthew asked, "So...milord I have to ask...what do we do? We've been monitoring Samuel for some time now...and I've been wondering what our end goal is. Should we eliminate him so that the Fang can't get their hands on the tactician first?"

About a month ago, Matthew had mentioned in a report that the Fang were conducting on a manhunt for Samuel. At the time Uther questioned such actions, but given today's new information...he was beginning to understand his enemy's motivations. They had thoroughly sent spies across every continent because they _knew_ he was still alive...or did they? Their intentions were still unknown after all, and it was likely the Fang were just as nosy in spywork as he is. It's possible that they're just trying to procure his talents for their own benefit...but it could really be anyone's guess.

Regardless of their plans, Uther has to make a decision.

He said, "No. I think Ostia may stand to benefit from this. Matthew, I need you to go Höger and reestablish contact with our tactician. Dig up more information on him, and if he's managed to remove Azazel from his body, then I want you to do everything in your power to bring him back under our fold. We can not afford for him to fall under the grasp of the Black Fang."

Matthew replied, "Milord...I'm not questioning your judgement...but is sending me really the best option? Our past engagement wasn't exactly on the best terms."

Uther sighed, "I know...but you're the only agent we have that he's antiquated with. There's no doubt in my mind that he doesn't trust us...so we're going to have to work hard in order to earn it back..."

Matthew nods in agreement, but then asks a question that was burning in the back of his mind.

He asked, "Yes but...how are we going to convince him to come back with us? With the small but livable salary he's earning with the Fist, we can't expect to sway him away with monetary compensation alone. Given what we're going to go up against...we need him more than he needs us."

That was a problem...a huge problem. They could attempt to kidnap him underneath the Fist's noses, but the tactician has shown an ability to escape from captivity. Even if he chose to stick around an unmotivated commander was not someone you'd want overlooking your troops.

It was a problem he honestly didn't have an answer for.

He replied, "I don't know. This is something you're going to have to find out. You've served me well thus far Matthew, and if you can solve this one problem for me I will grant a single wish for you."

Matthew nearly stumbles. In all his time serving under his lord, he'd never gone this far to instill motivation within his subjects.

"Milord..."

Uther sighed, "That tactician is vital for us if we're going to defeat the evil that will soon threaten the continent. I don't care what it takes. I'll be honest with you young man, it's going to take a lot to convince him to leave his peaceful life. That's why I am prepared to break your fiancé's oath of allegiance if you succeed for me. Even if she is one of my most important agents."

Uther was referring to the Ostian Oath of Allegiance. It was a binding contract every Ostian soldier took to swear their allegiance to the crown, and it applied to spies as well. Once the oath was taken the oath-taker was not allowed to leave their service unless they reached retirement age or Uther allowed them to. Matthew has been trying to get Leila to retire early to save her own skin...but thus far such attempts have been unsuccessful.

Matthew saluted, and could hardly contain his excitement.

He said emphatically, "I will do my best milord! I will bring back the tactician...I will not let you down!"

He then turns and exits through the front door. The creaky metal sends a ripple through the castle, undoubtedly waking up several people in the process. Uther silently swore to himself at Matthew's breach of protocol...and begrudgingly leans back against his chair once more.

Gambling on this tactician better pay off, he thought. He could've solicited the advice of other more novice professionals...but he feared they wouldn't be up to the task. The fate of the world rested on his hands, and he hoped he hadn't made a mistake by relying on an outsider like Samuel.

* * *

 **Lake Vermillion, Illia...**

The day is May 5th, and I had just spent the morning fishing with Canas. The morning sun was beginning to peak over the horizon, and the beautifully clear water rippled with movement. The weather...was perfect...

Lake Vermillion had finally defrosted to the point where could partake in fishing...and we couldn't miss the opportunity. Not even when neither of us knew what we were doing...

"Canas! Row _with_ me not _against_ me! How are we going to beach ourselves onto the ground like this?"

Okay, I lied. We're weren't _quite_ done with the fishing trip. We were still trying to get back on the coast...but Canas was making things difficult.

He said, "It's much harder to row when I- or should I say _you've_ cut open my hand like this. How hard is it hook someone's line, my dear friend?"

Yeah...my bad. Earlier, I had tried to attach Canas' line for him while he organized our messy tackle box. I _did_ end up putting it on successfully, but when I reeled in the line I didn't pay attention to where the hook was swaying...and it ended up on the palm of his right hand. He didn't appreciate that too much.

Still, I wasn't my about to lose face to Canas' rare demonstration of sass. I dealt with enough of that back home.

I said, "How hard is it to not pull when your hand gets nicked? I don't know very many people whose first instinct is to hurt themselves..."

Canas rolled his eyes. The sarcasm in my voice was not lost on him.

The fact of the matter was, at some point, I used to be really good at fishing. Canas and I used to frequent Lake Vermillion in the spring and summer months, and together we'd rake in enough fish to feed a small family. However, all of the knowledge I had for this patient pastime has disappeared a long time ago, whether it be due to concussions or some other unexplainable mishap. I was currently going off what Lyn had taught me almost one year ago...and to be completely honest that wasn't much.

Canas said, "I'm trying my best Samuel. It's hard to row when my hand is bandaged up like this. I'm surprised that we got the fish that we did."

A bucket full of fish rests underneath feet. Between the two of us was enough Cod to fulfill our fish needs for several weeks...and was the result of an unnecessary amount of blood, sweat, and effort. Despite our tone of voice towards each other, the fruits of our labor were visible for both of us to see.

I replied, "You and me both. Come on, focus. I've gotta little girl waiting for me back home. I'm cooking her breakfast..."

* * *

 **Höger Village, Sam's House...**

A sticky pair of rubber fishing boots sit by the door. In the kitchen, a dozen or so fish fillets rest on a cutting board, with the knife sitting idly nearby. The scent of sizzling eggs fills the air, and was as tantalizing as it could be. The cook was steadily watching over his soon-to-be meal with wanting eyes, while also speaking to somebody else with a calm tone.

I said, "Lani...how many eggs do you want? I've got some rice and fish fillets coming soon too."

Laniakea was patiently waiting on the dining table. She had casual clothing on, which amounted to a basic red dress compliment with a pink bow on her short hair. Interestingly, she also had an additional inch of growth on her since we first met; several months of good nutrition tends to have that effect on little girls.

She said politely, "I want one egg! Please!"

"And I want two..."

My ears perk up in response to that familiar voice. I turned around to see a blue-eyed lass sitting on a homemade oak chair. She was smiling...devilishly so.

I said, "Alexia? When did you get in here?"

She stands up and casually walks by me. There was a certain confident bounce to her step.

She said, "Through the front door, silly. You shouldn't be surprised, I've come so often I basically lived here now. Oh, and by the way your rice is burning."

"Huh?! Oh!"

My left hand shoots across my body to grab a glass of water. I splash the liquid on a pile of white rice I had cooking over a pan, and to my relief, the grains stopped burning. Had I left it idle for even another second...the dish likely would have been ruined.

I said, "Thank you, Alex..."

"No problem..."

Alexia smiles and rests her head on my shoulder. I wrap my right arm around her, and Alex responds by delivering a subtle kiss...

 _Yeah...this is the life._

Laniakea looks away in disgust.

She said, "Ew! What are you guys doing?"

Alex laughs and waltzes over to the little girl like a carefree butterfly. Lani was too flustered to resist when Alex kissed her on the forehead.

Alex said, "Never fear small child. I'll give you some love too!"

For once, the color of her face matches that of her eyes. I laugh, and casually make my way over to her too.

Lani exclaimed, "No! Stawp it! You're embarrassing me!"

I replied, "There's no way I'm just going to let you two have fun while I stand back here! Get over here you little tomato munchkin!"

Always one to keep it original, I decided to forgo the kissing option and instead relied on something much more humorous...

"Hahahahaha! NO!"

Lani uncontrollably laughs on her seat. She was helpless against the crusade of tickling initiated by myself, and tears ran down the sides of her eyes. Despite her pleas for help, it was clear she was enjoying herself, as was I.

"Alex! Make him stop! Please!"

Alexia shrugged, "Okay, but I'm going to have to kiss him again! Or better yet...maybe I should tickle you too!"

Lani's eyes widen with a combination of playful fear and bewilderment. At this point, she could hardly breathe from laughing so hard, and she desperately grasped for whatever lead could grant her a moment of repose.

She exclaimed, "No! Anything but that! T-The eggs, they're burning!"

 _Wait what?!_

I drop what I was doing and rush towards the wood-fueled stove once more. Although the eggs were indeed taking on a certain shade of brown, they were nowhere near the state of burning. I give Lani a grim look. She had tricked me.

 _I've been tricked, lied to...and quite frankly, bamboozled._

"Eeeeek, Alex!"

I look back towards the terrible duo and see that Alex had picked up where I left off. There was no point in punishing her; Alex has already made sure of that...

For a moment, I just pause and take it all in. If a random person were to walk in on us right now, they would've sworn we were a young, happy family. Some of us even look like each other. Coincidentally, Lani and I share Lumina's distinctive white hair color, and some people have gone as far as to claim that we were blood siblings. Fortunately, this only lends support to my reassurance that we were instead uncle and niece, and so far no one has yet to call us out on our ruse. Thank Elimine for that!

As for Alexia, news of our relationship spread through the village like wildfire. People would shoot us curious looks as we carried out our duties throughout the day, though it was never with ill intent. The older village folk lauded the rare young couple in town, they never hesitated to stop whatever they were doing to ask us how we were doing, or even to provide some interesting relationship advice. Old man Jenkins even went in on the fun, often remarking about some old memories he shared with his late wife. These were all interactions Alexia and I appreciated greatly, and it only reinforced my confidence that I made the right choice in staying here.

These villagers have shown me nothing but kindness, but Alexia was the icing on the cake. She's been so supportive of me and Lani, and in addition to being my lover, she's taken on the big sister role towards Laniakea. The duo have spent plenty of time together, with Alex teaching Lani various things that I could never do myself...and honestly, it's proving a great help to Lani's development as a person. She's taking on certain traits shared by us both...and with Alexia's sass and my arrogance, what could stop this budding tomboy in the future?

I smile and notice that the eggs, rice, and fish were all ready. The scent sent an amazing aroma through the air, and the two girls behind stopped their fun. Lani looks at me with her two same adorable red orbs, and Alex's stomach rumbles. I get our breakfast and begin placing it on three wooden plates...

I said, "Alright guys, breakfast is ready...!"

* * *

 **Noon, at the Citadel...**

The sounds of my footsteps echo through the crowded hallways of the Citadel. I shift and weave through the sea of humanity, with many colorful personalities heading towards the cafeteria after long morning training. They walked there with bruised faces, bent armor, and tired physiques. They looked at me with curious expressions across their faces, many of them have yet to know of the engineer under the Fist's employ. In my hands was a neatly prepared final report of my various projects, and I was hurriedly making my way towards Zealot's office.

 _This is it. The road and the bridge are complete, and now all that's left is to give him my final report..._

I rest my hand on the same familiar door I've seen countless times now. I knock and hear an unfamiliar voice on the other end.

 _Too bad he's not here today...the Commander..._

"Come in!"

I open the door and see a stocky older fellow with a magnificent mustache. His name was Lieutenant Danar and was the second in command to Commander Zealot. He was filling in for the latter after he was called for business out of town.

I said, "Greetings Lieutenant. I've come to deliver the final report."

Danar nodded and motioned for me to put it on his desk.

He said, "Excellent, put it here. I'll read it later. Before you go...tell me, have you put any thought on our offer?"

The offer he was referring to pertains to my future employment with the Fist. My deal with Zealot only covered the design and implantation of two projects, which have officially ended today. I was now technically a free agent, and Commander was trying everything in his power to keep me in Hoger.

I replied, "I'll have to put some thought on it. I'll get back with you in a month."

Danar frowned, "I'm sorry to hear that. We can't exactly afford to compete with the guild for prices...so we'll likely lose any bidding war for your services. All I can say is that should you choose to stay, you'll be helping to lift this nation towards a better future..."

Money was never really the issue. The Fist pays me well enough to comfortably support myself and Laniakea, but ultimately what I wanted was time. I understood that the moment I signed the job contract I'll be subjected to countless hours of work with no days off save for Sunday. What I truly desired was a vacation with Laniakea and Alexia, and this was something I could achieve by willingly delaying my employment. It was an ingenious plan.

 _It's not like I can tell them about this though. It's better for them to think I have cold feet instead of being lazy. I have all the leverage here._

I said, "I understand, but I just need some time to think about this. I'll be leaving town for a while with my family soon as well...though you can rest assured I'll be coming back to deliver my response. I have to speak to some potential... _clients_ in the _beautiful_ coastal towns of Etruria."

Danar briefly gives me a puzzled look, but then drops it when he realized what I had meant. I had just vaguely told him my plans while successfully concealing my intentions.

He said, "Very well. I'll be patiently waiting for your return. I assume you'll be bringing Alexia with you as well?"

I nodded, "Yes. I think she's already told you about this."

I had informed Alexia and Laniakea of my plans a couple of weeks in advance. We'll be leaving for our vacation next week...and Lani's excited beyond comprehension. I had always wanted to show my little girl the wonders of the world when I can...and this was an excellent opportunity to do just that.

He said, "She has. I'll arrange for someone to replace her...but all I ask is that you young ones stay safe. The world is a dangerous place."

I replied, "Don't worry Danar. I'll protect my family. I am a retired mercenary after all."

Danar nods, "Very well...safe travels..."

I pause. I had told the Commander those exact same words before he left...

The Commander...

He was likely fighting in some war or minor skirmish Elimine knows where. His work has always taken up so much of his time, and honestly, I don't know when was the last time he saw his wife. It'll be some time until he returns to Hoger...though for how long, nobody knows. I still remember the last conversation we shared before he left...

* * *

 **One week ago...**

"Samuel, mind if I share something with you?"

I raise my glance and lean against the back of my chair. Zealot was sitting behind his mahogany office desk, with a stern look in his eyes.

I replied, "Of course. I'm all ears."

Zealot looks away towards his window. The sun was high in the sky, and a drill instructor was barking orders towards a handful of unfortunate young men. Something was firmly on his mind...

He said, "I'm sure you're wondering about what my end goal is with you. Why I've gone so far to bring you on even though I'm aware of your past...even if it wasn't as a tactician."

I replied, "Yeah, I was wondering about that. I just assumed you needed some things built cheap."

He fidgets with a quill he had idle on his desk, and his demeanor stays steady. To me, he looked like something between a stressed salaryman and an old friend.

He said, "Indeed...but there's something else you need to be aware of. I'm sure you're familiar with the primary mode of income for my nation. That of mercenary work?"

"Yeah..."

On the wall behind him was a large map detailing the operations going on all over Elibe. Ilians were posted in Bern, Lycia, Etruria, even as far away as Missur. A quick count suggested several tens of thousands of troops were fighting abroad.

Zealot said, "Many of our soldiers risk their lives every day fighting for a cause that has no bearing with the home nation. Yet, we are forced to do so to bring food to our families. Though this a terrible way of living, my people have grown so accustomed to it that nobody ever questions it anymore. Illian children grow up with the expectation that the best way to earn money is through the way of the sword...and this is a way of life I hope we can eventually stray away from."

He turns and looks at me.

"This is where you come in. Even though your skills as a tactician are valuable, your expertise as an engineer has proved to be more so. I want to work this land with infrastructure projects that can eventually allow us to rely less on the sword and more on the plow, pickaxe, and so on. Even though that way of living will be tough...we can at the very least live with our families peacefully..."

A small portrait of a purple-haired woman was visible hanging over the wall. Her armor suggested she was a Pegasus knight, and her eyes were as vibrant as the morning sun.

"I haven't seen my wife in a year...and it won't be some time until I can see her again. Should we choose to have a family...I doubt I can fulfill my role as a proper father. Don't you think that's a shame? This is a similar story shared with many men and women in Illia...I think it's time we changed that."

"I want you to help me realize my vision. The blood of my people will be spilled to build up my...no... _our_ nation for a better future. I want you to stay here in Höger and be the brain behind every canal, bridge, and road in Illia. We can't pay you much...but I really do hope you choose to call this village your home after your contract with us ends."

I pause and think about what Zealot had just told me. What he was suggesting would likely result in more long hours for sub-optimal pay, which wouldn't be as big as a problem if I were to work with the guild. Still, I had a string of sympathy for the people of this nation, especially since I had amicable relationships with many Ilians who have decided to take up the sword.

 _Florina...she has a thoughtful employer now...but what happens when her assignment with Lyn ends? Will she be thrown into the bloody cog that is the machine of war? Illian soldiers don't live long...so how much time do I have left until I have to visit her unmarked grave in some foreign country?_

 _Zealot...he may not be a family man now...but one day he will be. I can empathize with his desire to be with his family...but the current state of things prevents that. If I work hard enough, maybe people like him can finally bond with their sons and daughters..._

 _Canas...he's my best friend. He may not have to fight in the front lines, but he's definitely poor. His family lives off the meager salary him and his wife earns from researching magic for the Fist; work that's worth much more than his pay. He'd certainly be paid more if the Fist could afford to...if..._

 _Alexia...she almost died above the skies of Fibernia. Sure, she may not have a family to support, but to think she would've lived a life of poverty had she not chosen to risk her life every day. Hundreds of thousands of people like her have to fight to survive...and many others rely on their blood money. I'm sure if Alexia didn't have to fight she wouldn't have then...but that was not an option. It still isn't for many..._

 _Little Hugh...what will he do? The Fist may not give him the same opportunity they gave to his father, and in that case, he'll most certainly have to become a mercenary. Maybe not with the Fist, but a rowdy soul like that won't be content poor..._

But still, despite the merit in it all, I was tired and worn out. I needed a break to rejuvenate my mind from the flood of projects to come...what I needed was...

A vacation...

* * *

 **Present...**

Walking away from the Citadel, a crisp white envelope was firmly in my grasp. The brisk wind was comfortably blowing against me, and the open-air was amazing to breathe in. Short beads of grass brush up against my ankles, though their tips were still caked with frost. Despite the lingering cold it still felt like perfect weather to go for a run or otherwise...but I take my mind away from that and focus on the letter I had picked up from the post office.

 _From, Erk Reglay._

 _To, Samuel Castillo._

My letter from Erk had finally arrived from the Pegasus Express. I was too impatient to open it up at home, I went ahead and released the letter from its paper prison. As expected, I noticed Erk's clean yet doctor-like handwriting and began reading...

 _Dear Samuel,_

 _Friend, it brings me great joy to hear that you're considering vacationing in Etruria for the following month. Rest assured myself and my family will be elated to receive you at Castle Reglay; provided that you disguise your identity..._

I bite my lip. Azazel was wanted throughout the continent, and although he may be dead, it was a shame I still looked like him. I'd have to use the age-old strategy of masquerades and false names to travel anywhere here in Elibe, but this was something I'd already discussed with my family. Laniakea has been aware of my past, though Alexia took a bit more coaxing to come around...

 _Fortunately, your trip coincides with my last month of freedom. Mid-June marks the time that I will embark to complete my mage training, and I'm already set to escort a Miss Pricilla on a mission. I've had the honor of speaking to her once, and she seems most graceful, unlike that...other client. I dare not put her name in writing...doing so may summon the will of the devil..._

Lmao. Serra might've given this poor chap PTSD. I'll pray for his soul tonight in the hope that he never has to deal with that pink banshee again...

 _I've read about your doings in Höger, and might I say that I'm a tad bit jealous. You've not only established yourself a discrete place in society, but you also managed to support a little girl in the process. Congratulations on that, though I can't say the same for myself. You've only been conscious for a little over a year and you've already had twice as much success in love than me..._

 _Why can't I talk to girls...?!_

I truly don't regret rushing to read this letter. Erk's always been awkward around people of the opposite sex, though not as much as Florina. His problem is that he's so uptight and self-deprecating around girls when he should laidback and honest. His frustration is so great that he even forgot to double-check his own math. 2 times 0 is still 0 after all...

 _On a slightly more serious note, I found something a bit peculiar about that Zealot fellow. You mentioned in writing earlier that Alexia only happened to meet us by chance...but I find that oddly coincidental. Zealot already demonstrated knowledge of your presence in Höger, and I don't think it'd be too detached from reality to claim that he called her in with the hope that you two would grow attached to each other. Think about it, all the secretaries we saw up to that point were older women with distasteful personalities. What were the odds that a sweet attractive young lady would greet us the moment we made it up to the reception? That man has already admitted that he wants you in Höger at any cost, and having you in a relationship with a local could accomplish just that..._

Here he was with his conspiracy theories...but strangely enough, I can't help but feel there was a kernel of truth to this. I am considering taking a pay cut for her to feel comfortable in her home country after all...

...

If what Erk is saying is true...then that Zealot is one slimy genius. There's no doubt in my mind that our love in genuine, but for him to know that we'd turn out this way...

Agh...he's been playing 4D chess this entire time, hasn't he? Well, there's no doubt in denying it. He has me firmly wrapped around his finger...but that doesn't mean I still can't get a kick out of life, can't I?

 _Bah...I'm probably just talking out of my mouth hole, aren't I? We'll be waiting for your arrival. Just stay safe!_

 _Sincerely, Erk..._

I neatly fold up the well-written letter and look at the road ahead. I was still one 15-minute walk away until I got home...and I was sure a certain white-haired lass was patiently reading fairy tales. Maybe I'd go join her...

* * *

 **Village Square...not even five minutes later...**

"Sammy!"

To my surprise, Laniakea was already waiting for me at the village square when I got there. She had the most adorable pink ribbon on her straightened out hair, and her remarkable green dress was obviously the result of Alexia's involvement. She had the cutest smile on her face, and her dainty voice set me at ease.

"Laniakea! What are you doing here? I thought you were at home?"

She replied, "I was! But Alex told _me_ to tell _you_ that you have to take me to the park today! Here! She gave me this!"

She reveals a small rubber ball in her grasp. It was bouncy and slippery to the touch, and would be perfect for any games between the two of us.

"Come on! Let's go! It's been a while since I've been able to play with you!"

I smile and gently pat the young one's head.

"Sure. I need to go home real quick though, I'd like to change out of these shoes. These boots are killing my ankle."

I look out past the shops and start making my way home. However, before I can even take a step, Laniakea anchors me with her tiny hand.

"Huh? What's wrong?"

She replied, "I-I don't wanna go home. Let's go straight to the park okay?"

Suspiciously, Lani is rather unyielding in this. The expression on her face suggests she didn't think I'd want to go home. At this point, I realized that something was obviously up, though I doubted it was of malicious nature.

 _Eh...I'll just play along. If Lani and Alex are planning something then it can't be all bad..._

 _Is today some special day? I have no idea...but at the very least I can squeeze some precious time with my niece out of this..._

I change my step and start making my way north, towards a small open field of grass by the local orphanage. This was the village's impromptu park, and it was where I'd be spending the next hour with Laniakea.

Lani exclaimed, "Yay! I'm so happy!"

I nod and keep my little girl close.

I replied, "As am I. Let's have some fun, shall we...?"

* * *

 **Later...**

The sun has dipped further to the west, and I brush a bead of sweat off my brow. That little tike kept me busy all day, and unlike myself, she seemingly had an endless amount of energy in her disposal. My clothes were dirty from all the games we played with the nearby orphan children, and I was completely spent...

On our way home after this active day, I look down towards little Lani who was eagerly eating a cone of ice cream. After our day of fun, I went ahead and invited her along with the orphan children to the Bernish ice cream merchant; who had strangely lingered around town a full month after the Festival. I bought everyone a cone of their choice, and after an endless stream of thanks from the kids...we bid farewell. The priest will most likely be dumbfounded when he sees the dozen or so children with frosty treats...but a little bit of excitement never killed anybody...

I open the front gate of my abode and calmly walk our way towards the front door. With my left hand firmly in Laniakea's grasp, I slowly rest my right hand over the doorknob...

I hesitate. Something had caught my eye.

 _Huh...that's odd..._

I look down towards our welcome rug and noticed that it had an extra amount of dirt than it had before. Judging by the indentions on the fabric, there was no way it could have come from Lani's tiny feet. My heart...sinks...

A million different possibilities rush through my head. Maybe Alexia snuck in my house while I was away...but I knew she wouldn't do that. Lani could have brought in a stranger...but she would have told me about it. The more I thought about, the more I become convinced of one dreadful truth.

 _Have...have they finally come for me...?_

"Sammy? What's wrong?"

I defensively put my body between Lani and the front door. My right hand tightly grips the red dagger I have underneath my cloak and I'm *this* close to telling Lani to run for it when...

I hear muffled laughter...

Not just any laughter, but laughter from familiar voices. Canas, Camille, and Alexia. These were all my people...

I have nothing nothing to fear, my suspicions are unfounded...

"Sammy?"

I take a deep breath and sigh. I put my hand back on the doorknob and...

"It's nothing, Lani. Just an old veteran seeing things..."

Push.

* * *

"Surprise!"

The thick curtains fly open, and a stream of baked evening light flows into the small single room cabin. A small handful of close friends emerge from the safety amid the shadows, with names such as Canas, Camille, and Alexia. They had their hands extended forward with excitement beaming from their eyes.

"Huh? What's going on?"

I look at Laniakea, who at this point had a mischievous look on her face. She takes her hand and puts it behind a sweater hanging on our coat rack. Digging into it, she finally pulls away revealing the reason why everyone was here...

A birthday hat. A blue, homemade birthday hat.

Laniakea smiles and kisses me on the cheek. Afterword, she gracefully secured the hat on my head, and allows me to stand there befuddled in my own shock.

She said, "Happy Birthday, Sammy! Canas told us it was your birthday today! You didn't think we'd forget did we?"

I was...speechless. I was so caught up in thinking about work and the vacation that I completely forgot about my own birthday. A hot, joyful sensation builds up in my chest, gradually spreading up across my body until it found the only outlet it could...

Lani notices the teary blots dripping from my eyes. She rests her hand on my own, worried that all the work she and my friends had done was for naught.

"What's wrong, Uncle? Are you sad?"

I shake my head and pick up the small child with my own arms. I squeeze her tight in a love-filled hug and didn't want to let go.

I said, "Anything but, _mi_ _princesa._ I'm so happy right now...thank you..."

Laniakea tilts her head slightly, but it doesn't take much for her to realize what I had just said. She reciprocated my grasp with gratitude, with the red blush in her cheeks exemplifying the affection shared between us both.

After a tender moment, she effortlessly prances back onto the floor like a porcelain doll. She gestures towards my friends nearby, who looked they were dying to speak.

She said, "Don't just thank me, the others helped me too! They set up the party while I was with you in the park!"

She was right. I looked around like a child in a toy store, and realize my humble abode had been transformed. A giant banner reading "Happy Birthday" hung over the wall, along with a few simple drawings that read "I love Sammy", most likely sourced from Lani. The house had been cleaned beyond what Lani or myself could ever have mustered, and the most magnificent aroma filled the air. It was homely, familiar...and delicious...

"You're wondering about that smell right?"

Alexia looks at me proudly with the others. I noticed there were some noticeable bags under her eyes, along with some grease stains on her pants.

I replied, "Yeah...I think I know what it is but I can't put my finger on it..."

Alexia smiles and waltzed over to the kitchen. She opened the oven drawer and pulls out a big plate full of beef tacos. My stomach flips on its side like a subservient puppy.

"No way..."

Alexia affectionately places her finger below her chin. Her face lit up the instant she saw my approval, but acted quickly in explaining herself.

She said, "Canas and I did some research on your culture...and we thought you might appreciate this. Camille and I spent the past few hours working on this, I hope we did it justice..."

Canas inquisitively adjusts the monocle on his right eye.

He said, "Quite an interesting culture you hail from Samuel. I never would have suspected something like this existed in Elibe. However, now I can say I've expanded my horizons just a little bit more."

Camille sighed, and I noticed that she too had grease on her shirt. There was less black muck than on Alex however; she was the more experienced cook after all.

She said, "Alexia and I had a lot of fun with this. Maybe a little too much fun...it's going to take a while to wash this off..."

"..."

"Say, how old are you now?"

I open my mouth to answer, but then I hesitate.

 _Erm...how old am I? If I go by direct age, Nergal made me about three years ago...but I was created at near-adult age. Interestingly, I'm one of the few morphs that actually age...so if I go off what I am biologically...I should be exactly twenty years old._

 _Twenty years old...that's insane. My childhood is only just a memory now...but it seems like it was an eternity ago..._

I look out towards my friends who were patiently waiting for my answer. Among these people were thousands of memories of my past, along with thousands more for the future. They had gone out of their way to give me my own special day, and I knew this would be one memory I would hold dear forever...

I gaze deep in Alexia's eyes. Should my life continue in this trajectory, it's only natural that one day I'd be able to call her my bride. Camille stood next to her, and although our relationship wasn't amorous, she was still easily one of the most important women in my life. On her left was Canas, who along with Erk, served as one of my closest friends.

I take a deep breath...and sigh. My life previously had been absolute hell, but now I felt like I had reached heaven. My life up to this point had taken twenty years, and although my first few months here in Elibe were troublesome, I rest easy knowing I can happily spend my next twenty with my amazing friends and loving niece...

I can live here in peace forever. No more war or constant explosions to keep me at night. Life is the best its ever been, and I hope it can always stay this way...

Preferably...until the day I die...

* * *

 **That night...**

 _..._

 _Shadows lurk in the darkness..._

 _They stand to wait over the sanctuary; intangible evil waiting to destroy..._

 _What will you do...?_

 _The devil leads an army..._

 _The demon was only the unwilling servant of him; the devil comes in the form of a turban..._

 _If left unchecked, he will inevitably wash the world with blood..._

 _He comes beckoning tonight..._

 _Young tactician...what will you do...?_

 _What will you do to protect those that you love...?_

 _..._


	48. The End of Normalcy

**Chapter 44: The End of Normalcy**

 **By SodiumChloride12, derived from Fire Emblem, owned by Nintendo.**

 **A/N: I have finals the next two weeks, so I'm going to go on a two-week break to make sure the 5k my family spent on school wasn't for nothing. I'll also be spending this week editing some of my older chapters, especially with fixing the prose.**

 **I'm also still accepting beta readers.**

 **N: A familiar foe lurks nearby. Samuel is due for a rude awakening...**

* * *

The wind is still, and the new moon cakes the land in darkness. An impenetrable curtain of silenced surrounds the village, and no soul scampered about at midnight. Chilling snow blankets the landscape all around, with some nearby hills resembling large snowballs. On these hills were five ominous individuals, three of which had those familiar...golden eyes...

One of these men was Nergal, whose black turban and robe camouflaged well with the surrounding darkness. He is flanked by two subordinates, Ephidel and Jaffar, along with two nameless morphs. They all wore thick winter clothing that matched the style of their leader, and there was scarcely any indicator of their presence. All but...the small luminous gold tint emanating from the dark creatures' eyes.

Ephidel allows his unfeeling eyes to peer over the small village below. He notes the single gate protecting the exterior wall, and his mind churned with thought. He wonders about how fast the Fist's forces would converge on them after they dealt with their target, and his brain methodically predicted thousands of different outcomes...

His first plan to come to mind would be the most obvious, through brute force. They could tear down the front gate and kill the guard, and afterward, they'd storm their target's house. Such a display of strength would be the best for stoking his master's ego, but it was also the riskiest. The neighbors or authorities wouldn't take a liking to this obvious breach of sovereignty by a foreign organization, and although individually a Fist soldier was weak, in numbers they posed a huge problem. This strategy was one to be avoided, and that was a fact Nergal knew very well.

Another option would be to send Jaffar inside discreetly. He could easily bypass any defenses and enter undetected; finding the target's house wouldn't be too difficult. However, if the mission was to kill, then they would have sent Jaffar here alone a long time. As much as the Angel of Death is proficient in the art of killing, kidnapping was not his forte. They needed him alive, and unfortunately, Jaffar was not the man to do that.

Breaking and entering was never in Nergal's mind. He was a cunning fellow, and he knew there were better ways of getting what he wanted done...

Jaffar gazed over at his target's home. They knew which one it was thanks to some help from a Black Fang sympathizer. He was a Bernish merchant whose brother is a lieutenant within the organization, and his information proved invaluable to their mission. Thanks to him, Jaffar knew there were likely one or two other people inside that house with him, all of which will have to be dealt with if he were to enter alone...

Jaffar rests his hand on the grip of his blade and then steps forward. Nergal puts his hand in front of him as to block him, and Jaffar paused in kind.

Jaffar asked quietly, "What I will do, my lord?"

Nergal doesn't look back at him, but he smiles. The grin on his face was comparable to a mad scientist at the cusp of a great discovery, but no advancement in science or magic was being made today. Far from it.

He replied, "Nothing. There is no need to risk ourselves when it is unnecessary. Why hunt for your food...when the plate has already been served?"

The four other emotionless morphs say nothing. However, Jaffar is slightly intrigued by his language.

He asked, "However do you mean?"

Nergal lets free a small breach of sanity. His maniacal laughter would have caught Jaffar off guard if he wasn't already accustomed to it.

"Hahahaha! You'll see soon enough..."

When he finishes, he raised his hand towards the invisible moon above. His eyes were directly facing Samuel's house, with his gaze penetrating through the small side window. He truly looked the part of the villain, and his face wrought with twisted glee. Nergal mutters a spell...

 _"Come to me..."_

 _"Come to my power...meet me upon this hill..."_

* * *

 **Nearby...**

 _..._

 _!_

There's this...weird feeling in my gut. It's...unnatural and sickening. Am...I ill? I thought I wasn't subject to the same diseases that affect mankind. These voices too...

 _ **?:**_ _Come to me..._

That voice is awfully familiar...but I don't know why. I think I've heard it a long time ago...but even it's strangely hypnotic. If it were any stronger, I might feel compelled to obey it...but it's not. At least not towards me anyhow.

I take a deep breath and allow myself to immerse beneath my warm covers. After a short while, the voice subsides, and I feel nothing else. Nothing but the inevitable cold creeping the extremities of my feet...

...

 _Great, now I can't sleep._

I rip off the covers and groggily sit upright against my bed. Pain surrounds the temple of my forehead, this is most likely the result of a sleep-deprived migraine. I'd have to bear with it for now...the only remedy I could provide for my body is the rest it needed.

Migraines like these were becoming more and more common ever since that head injury I received from Barthillas. Before, the migraines only came once every month or so...but now they triggered every couple of days. I had likely suffered some debilitating injury in my brain earlier...but neither magic nor traditional medicine could provide a solution. I'd likely have to deal with a worsening quality life as I got older...

Thankfully though, the pain from the migraine was marginal compared to the hangover I was experiencing. A handful of whiskey shots were circulating through my veins like the happy little toxins they were, just as I was at their consumption.

 _Man, last night was some party..._

I smile when I think about the events that transpired last night. The tacos were amazing, and I don't think I've ever eaten that much food in such a small amount. We joked and small talked like the good friends we were, and once Laniakea retired for the evening, liquor flowed through the small abode. I learned how to drink happily again, and we filled the night with humorous memories pertaining to my inability to handle it. I was so drunk that I wondered if this headache is truly the result of a migraine or a hangover, but I wasn't sure.

 _Alexia had a lot to drink last night too...I wonder how she's feeling..._

Alex was the one who convinced me to drink in the first place. She had bought some fantastic gin over the weekend, and the group made short work of it. By the time the night ended, Alexia and I found ourselves wasted into oblivion, though if memory serves Camille and Canas made it home on their own. Alexia had to stay because she couldn't even stand on her own two feet...

 _She's probably fine..._

I close my eyes and prepare myself to sleep again. It won't be an easy task...but I'll manage. I had suffered through much worse after all...

...

 _Wait a minute..._

 _Where did Alexia sleep?_

Quantitatively, we only had two beds here at the house. I hadn't finished the guest room yet, so we only had bedding for myself and Laniakea. Laniakea was already asleep in hers when the party ended...so that only left one possibility.

She slept with me...

 _Oh my..._

My face blushes red with emotion, but before I could congratulate myself on what I had achieved, I quickly run through a reality check. I look around in my bed to glimpse my beloved...but come up empty. However, I'm able to detect a small strand of blue hair amongst the fabric, and this was enough for me to confirm her previous presence. But this still left one disturbing question. Where...was she?

 _Come to think of it...where was Laniakea?_

I look across the single-room home searching for a trace of that familiar white hair. But the new moon heavily impaired my vision, so I take out a fire tome I had hidden in my bedside drawer. I whisper a minor incantation, and I filled the room with warm light. A single purple flame penetrated through the darkness...

The house was still a mess from last night's festivities. Grease stained the kitchen table, and the unforgettable stench of alcohol sent uneasy movements through my head. A half-melted candle stood still atop a light stand, and the door remained shut. However, something by the window catches my eye. The sight...was baffling.

Laniakea and Alexia were standing...completely still by the glass pane. They stared out of it like they were in some trance, and neither seemed to notice the other's presence. Fortunately, they didn't appear to be in any pain, and their chests calmly rose with each natural breath.

 _What's going on here?_

An overwhelming sense of dread ensnares me like a bear trap. It was the same one I had felt many months ago...when I spoke to that man who had appeared to me in my dreams.

 _What was that name again...the alcohol is making my memory hazy..._

 _..._

 _Nergal?_

I bite my lip and send that thought back to the deepest chasms of my mind. There was no way this was the work of Nergal...it's not possible. I changed my look, my place of residence, and even took on a name Nergal wasn't aware I had. I covered up my tracks so well, and even though my accent was unique only a select few people could tie it to Mark. There's no way Nergal knew to find me out here when Mark/Azazel only had ties with Carazan, Lycia, and Sacae...

Right?

I take a deep breath and shake the fear from my veins. Despite whatever was lurking nearby, I still had to do my duty regarding my SO and young niece. I needed to sort this out...and fast.

I slowly approach the two girls by the windowsill and snap my fingers to retrieve their attention. When that didn't work, I instead opt for a more direct approach in lightly shaking them. Thankfully, that did the trick, and the duo wake up from their slumber.

Alexia groggily looks around, then at me. Lani instinctively grabs onto my waist, with her tiny finger latching deep in the fabric of my nightgown.

Laniakea squealed, "Where am I? What's going on? I-I'm scared."

My protective instincts take over, and I pick her up. I realized she was frightened and, for the moment I put away my external concerns...

I said, "Shhh, it's okay. You've just sleepwalked...let me put you back to bed."

I didn't want to scare her any further, so I downplayed the situation the best I could. Laniakea slowly nods her head in acknowledgment, and her quivering hands finally began to calm...

 _There there Lani...just listen to my voice..._

I shifted my attention towards Alexia, who was in a more incapacitated state than Laniakea. Her body was busily swaying from the alcohol in her system, so much so she inevitably lost her balance...

 _Here we go..._

I catch her before she could hit the ground, and my fit muscles strained under the combined loads of Laniakea and Alexia. Together their weight easily eclipsed 200 pounds, but this was no issue for me. My rehabilatory training has guaranteed me that much.

 _Oof! At least I know they're eating well though. Time to put them back to bed..._

Before leaving to drop them off in their respective resting places, however, I steal a glance across the transparent pane. I had constructed the window to where I could see over the short village wall, allowing the viewer a perfect view of the surrounding environment. I squint my eyes over the snow-capped hills and mountains...

 _..._

 _I can't see much with these eyes. My age must be catching up to me...I think I must get some glasses soon..._

I dismiss the view and turn around, but before I could take a step...

 _ **?:** Look at me..._

I gasp. That voice...

 _ **?:** Look at me, don't tell me you're too afraid to look at your father..._

I peer through the window again, this time focusing on a lone hill tucked away behind some trees. The surrounding grass was gray and clammy, though that wasn't the most damning detail. Standing atop that mound of frigid earth were five dark silhouettes, and at the center of them was a tall figure with glowing blue eyes...

Along with a turban.

 _Oh my God..._

"Sammy is everything okay?"

Laniakea notices the look of despair on my face. I feel her heartbeat beat faster like a runaway train, and tears blot her eyes...

 _Calm down, Samuel. You can't lose your cool. You need to act like everything is okay, even if you have to fake it._

"Everything is fine, Laniakea. Don't worry about a thing, as long as I'm here nothing will ever happen to you."

"Really?"

I replied, "Of course..."

I smile and walk away from the window. The lingering aura of Nergal's presence continues to gnaw away like me like poison, but for now, I endured it the best I could. I laid Alexia down on the nearby sofa and tenderly put Laniakea back to bed.

I asked Lani, "Do you think you can go back to sleep? Should I give you some warm milk or hot tea?"

Laniakea shakes her head and slowly buries herself within her pink sheets. In the meantime, I busily go to my closet and take out a long steel sword. I did my best to not make a commotion, but Laniakea noticed.

She asked, "Uncle...what's going on?"

I replied, "Oh, I'm just going a short walk outside that's all. You should go back to bed...and don't get up no matter what okay?"

Laniakea senses the dread in my voice, yet she still musters the strength to obey and stay calm. I steadily made my way to the front door and opened it, allowing the cold wind to brush my short white hair. The night felt serene and calm...which came in great contrast in what I was about to do.

Lani said, "Sammy...you'll come back for me, right?"

 _Come back for you? What do you mean sweet pea?_

I held those thoughts deep within me. Some things were better left unsaid.

I replied, "Of course. Always. I'll protect you with every ounce in my body."

I look back towards my surrogate daughter, and a pool of sadness welled up within me. I didn't understand why I felt this way...but I couldn't help but think this would be the last we saw each other. I observed the frightful little cinnamon roll in her adorable little pajamas as she shivers from her nerves...and compelled; I do one final thing before I head to deal with my inner demons.

 _!_

I went up to Laniakea and wrap her in a tight hug. Equally emotional, she reciprocated with her own genuine display of affection...and for a moment we lost ourselves in each other's embrace...

I wanted nothing more than to be happy with her, for Lani to be happy. I wanted to protect her, the last reminder of my friendship with Lumina. No, my relationship with a Laniakea went further than that now. Laniakea was nothing short than my own daughter, even if our bloodlines disagreed...

She whispered, "I love you Sammy...please come for me soon."

I nod my head and give her the warmest smile I'd ever given. The sight surely implanted itself in her mind forever, just as her red-eyed face did to mine.

I said, "I will Laniakea. I promise..."

I let go and reluctantly walked back towards the still-open front door. The hill over the horizon was still visible from here, along with Nergal's peering blue eyes. They were still calling to me...but thankfully it appeared he was uninterested in Laniakea and Alexia.

So...with a heavy heart, I look back at Laniakea for one last time. Then...I shut the door.

* * *

I walk past the winding streets of Hoger, with a slight drizzle of snow slowly covering the primitive homes and businesses. My breaths condensed easily with the surrounding cold and my body trembles in response to it. The stiffness in my ankle was at its highest during times like these...but I continued on nonetheless. It would take much more than some trouble walking for me to not do my duty.

I pass through the front gate of our protective walls, and I note how easy it was to relinquish what little protection I had against my maker. There was absolutely nothing preventing me from doing so, as the lone guard was peacefully snoring away at his post. I pitied him for his lack of discipline; he'll likely have to answer for what will happen when everything comes to pass. I continue walking towards that fateful hill and push away the pit of darkness accumulating in my gut.

Eventually, I reach the hill. To the villagers, they called this place "Fawn Hill", with its namesake originating from the peaceful deer that would often graze on isolated patches of grass during spring. However, they may have to change that name soon. Standing atop what used to represent life amongst a brutal wasteland, instead lurked 5 individuals with murder in their eyes. I gazed upon these men and saw some unfamiliar faces, along with a few familiar ones...

I see two morphs, both of which were swordsman with an eerie look across their faces. They constructed their swords from hardened silver and had bodies far fitter than I could ever achieve. I recognized two others as Ephidel and Jaffar respectively, both of which I saw with the Emperor in Carazan. Both of them looked nearly identical to what they were before...

 _I wonder what they were doing in Carazan. What business does the Black Fang have in that isolated little city out west? Nergal has nothing to gain by interfering in their affairs...unless his goal was to create unnecessary chaos. What is that schemer's plan...?_

Towering above everyone else was none other than the devil himself, Nergal. He had a grim yet smug look on his face. His single free eye was staring at me with contempt similar to a father would to a very disobedient child. His voice was quiet yet sinister...like a snake.

"Hello, Azazel...it's been a while."

I gulped and gradually float my hand towards my sword's grip. I wondered if preparing to fight was worth it; Jaffar could likely cut me down within seconds if I even attempted to strike at Nergal. So instead I grip onto a small vial of transparent liquid in my right pocket and hold my ground.

I said, "It's Samuel now. At least do that due diligence if you have any honor."

Nergal smiles sinisterly, "Very well. You've made the right choice Samuel. If you didn't come out willingly, I would have sent Jaffar in to take you out by force. Then again, it never was a choice for you, was it? I know how much you care about that fake child of yours."

My eye twitches, and I clench my fist. Nobody, and I mean NOBODY, slights my kid in front of me.

I shot back, "Don't call her my fake child. I consider her my own, and I won't let you slight her in front of me."

The villain laughs, "Hehehe. You speak as if you have any leverage in this. If I wanted to, I could order you killed right now..."

Anger gradually builds within my soul. Nergal's arrogant attitude reminded of some posh noble...and it pissed me off.

"Stop toying with me, fiend. What do you want?"

Nergal pauses at the remark, and his attitude changes. It was now much more serious...

He said, "It is the soul within you I want. Azazel continues to sleep within you, and I cannot sit idly while that weapon walks about Elibe without his leash. I have come to recla-"

I said frankly, "He's dead."

"What?!"

I take a deep breath and repeat the message again.

"He's dead. I killed him...with my own two hands."

Nergal's smug face instantly contorts into one of pure anger. Expecting danger, I draw my sword and wait for a fireball, lightning, sword strike, _anything_. However, nothing comes. Nergal had restrained himself from delivering a retaliatory strike, and his emotions calm...

He said, "Very well. Even if that erratic soul doesn't exist anymore, that doesn't mean you still can't be of use to me. I can kill you and harvest your quintessence. Afterward, I'll construct another morph of similar power level to you, one that isn't as rebellious as the original..."

He waves his hand towards Jaffar, who in a flash jumps into the air. Fortunately, my several spars with Lyn had gifted me the ability to read his movements, and I parry his dagger without a moment to spare.

CLANG!

Sparks fly and burn the outer layer of my face. Jaffar briefly steps back as to ready himself for another blow, but I take advantage of this brief lapse of rest. I quickly draw my fire tome and spew out a wall of fire denying him the area of battle.

 _I know I can't beat him 1 on 1. I need to buy myself some time so I could take this thing out..._

...

 _There we go..._

I exclaimed, "Stop!"

The wall of fire disappears, and I reveal a single vial of liquid to my opponents. Nergal motions over to Jaffar to stop, and he questions me on the contents inside of the vial.

He asked, "What is that?"

"It's a vial full of holy water. I'm sure I don't have to explain to you what will happen if I were to drink this..."

Holy water is the bane of every morph. Ingesting it directly will destroy any creature of darkness' body, dissolving the quintessence inside of us into nothing more than an unusable organic mess...

I said, "Come an inch closer and you'll lose that super soldier you've always wanted. All that time you've spent in the Azazel project will be for nothing..."

Nergal grunted and rubs his chin. It was clear he hadn't expected this turn of events, and the look of shock on his face was priceless. Despite the overwhelming advantage of strength he possessed, I had finally achieved the upper hand.

He said, "What do you hope to achieve from this?"

"I want a guarantee."

"To what regard?"

I replied, "I want you to promise me you'll never return to this village again. Leave my daughter and my home alone. Guarantee that, and I'll smash this vial into the ground so you can have me."

Nergal sighs, and then scratched the back of his head. His face wrinkled with thought.

He said, "Fine. On my honor, I swear that I will leave your beloved daughter and home unharmed. Now...if you will."

I silently nod and drop the vial onto the ground. The fragile glass shatters into dozens of pieces, and the holy liquid harmlessly sinks into the frozen earth.

I close my eyes and wait for the inevitable to come. Nergal whispers an incantation, and I stand still as a fireball homes in on my body...

 _I...have no regrets..._

But...it misses. Shocked, I quickly turn around in time for the fireball to whizz well over my head...and straight into the village below. A thunderous clap of burning wood erupts in front of me, and my eyes widen...

 _By Elimine..._

To my horror, it completely engulfed my home in flames. Blood-curling screams tear away at my eardrums like a powerful acid, and I'm too helpless to do anything about it. My legs lose their strength, and I fall onto my knees.

 _Oh my God...my home...Laniakea...Alexia..._

The sight...will forever be engrained in my mind. The towering embers of magical fire, the unforgettable high-pitched screaming of Alexia, and the pillowing clouds of smoke polluting the air. It all reminded me of the Lorcadian massacre...and the emotion was too much to bear. I wanted to reach out and help them...but I couldn't. It was already too late.

My despair quickly transforms into anger, and I grip the handle of my sword tight.

I pointed it at Nergal, "You heartless scum of shit! What is the meaning of this?! Why...did you betray your honor?!"

The laughter that followed was as chilling as the surrounding snow. He smiled as he looked upon the area of destruction he had just caused like some genocidal maniac. This man...did not differ from Azazel.

He exclaimed, "You fool! Do you think some superficial commodity like honor means anything to me? Of course it doesn't, it represents nothing to me than a toy simple humans use to hold each other accountable. However, I _am_ above all forms of accountability. Limitless power grants you these things you see...but I doubt you'll ever understand."

"You monster!"

Enraged, I charge at him with my sword in hand. I was a man with nothing to lose, and I didn't care if I had the means to kill him. I wanted to cut him...even if to just share a small pebble of the pain I was feeling right now.

"ARGGGH!"

 _!_

"Ugh..."

I had only taken a step when Jaffar pounced on me. His sharp dagger tore open my stomach easily...and the surrounding snow turned red as it mixed with a pool of my own blood. I crumble onto the floor like a thrown away toy...and consciousness quickly betrays me.

I look at my assailant and mutter a few curses.

"Jaffar...I swear I'll haunt you..."

I shift my gaze over to Ephidel and Nergal. Nergal's silhouette was imposingly pressing its will on me...while Ephidel focused on the inferno below.

I told the sorcerer, "Nergal...I'll bring you down to the deepest depths of hell. I promise you that..."

Nergal snickered, "Hehehe. You shouldn't be making promises that you can't keep my boy. Keep quiet, you'll be dead soon..."

I fight back the urge to close my eyes. However, as time passed, my resistance waned. Everything was turning numb...and my vision worsened...

 _It's so cold...is this how I'm going to die? Oh, Lani...Alexia...forgive me. I wasn't strong enough..._

I hear one last thing before losing consciousness. I wasn't sure if it was real or imagined...but these words were vivid as ever...

Nergal said, "Jaffar. Make sure everyone in that house is deceased. We'll do well to avoid having vengeful souls coming for us in the future..."

My mind screams out with pleas...as if my inner thoughts could persuade him to stop. Even I knew this was all in vain.

 _No...stay away from them..._

 _Please..._

 _I have...so many regrets._

Then...with those last gasps, I close my eyes. Everything went black...

* * *

 **?...**

 _Sam..._

 _Samuel..._

 _Samuel!_

 _Wake up!_

* * *

 **Dawn...**

"Huh?"

I wake up in the same position I was before, but now a thick layer of snow surrounded me. My stomach had since mysteriously sealed up, but the pool of blood had now frozen over. It was very difficult to move...and for a moment I questioned my situation.

 _W-Where am I? What was that voice...?_

 _I'm...still in Fawn Hill. But, Nergal and Company are gone...why didn't they take me? More importantly...how am I still alive?_

I muster the strength to sit upright and view the surrounding area. Amazingly, I was alone. None of the hunters that usually worked in these areas were around...and I quickly remember why...

 _The village..._

I stand up and see the walled village below me. Most of it was still as pristine and well ordered as usual...all except for the black stain at its west quarter. The place where my house once stood...

 _Lani...Alexia..._

I break out into a sprint...and start the journey back home. I filled my mind with worry for my loved ones...and I prayed on the off chance that they had survived...

But my prayers were unanswered...

I arrive at my house to see many others had gathered around the smoked debris. My neighbors were already trying to clear the rubble and were surprised to see me alive. They shot an array of questions in my direction...but I ignored them all. I fixated only one thing on my mind...the safety of the two people I love. I clear through the crowd and get an open view of the rubble...

...

...

...

Alexia's burnt body was leaning against what used to be my front gate. Her neck was slit open by what appeared to be a sharp knife, and her lifeless eyes were staring at me emotionless. Her flawless blue hair had burnt to a crisp, and all beauty in her form had disappeared.

My heart collapses onto itself, and I fall onto the ground in front of her. Tears stream down the sides of my face...and I lose it.

I muttered, "Alexia...I'm so sorry. This is my fault...my fault..."

"MY FAULT!"

The guilt was choking my entire being. It felt like an inescapable prison, with every ticking second sinking that painful dagger deeper into my heart. Despair overwhelms me, and a numbing sensation took hold. All external stimuli felt no different from a dreamy haze, and the Illian air lost its frost. A thick fog soon blurs the lines between fiction and reality...and I soon lose touch with the latter...

I...had lost everything. There was nothing left but my rapidly deteriorating sanity.

The surrounding crowd falls into silence, and nobody moves. Hushed whispers fill the air, and I can sense dozens of fingers point in my direction. I ignore them and shift my gaze over to Alexia's blackened hands...which contained a lone pink ribbon. Lani's ribbon.

After the attack, she sobered up and protected my daughter with her life. She must've fallen victim to Jaffar's dagger when he entered the burning building. Her death had to have been painless...she was already long dead when the flames did this to her.

But that did nothing to ease the despair eating away my soul...

 _Alexia...Lani...I'm so sorry. Please...forgive me..._

"Constable! He's right there!"

I didn't notice a woman approach me with the constable in tow. The latter fellow sternly grabs me by the arm and fixated a pair of cuffs onto my hands. I don't resist.

She said, "This is him, officer. He said that this is his fault."

The constable asked, "Young man, what do you have to say for yourself?"

I stare blankly into the man's face with my colorless eyes. His words sounded like a garbled mess to me.

"..."

The constable angrily pulls me away. I was nothing less than guilty in his eyes now.

"What a monster. Arsonists that kill their own families deserve to burn in the deepest depths of hell. I'm sure he'll get the noose for this."

The crowd remains quiet as the crime scene's main suspect was taken to the local prison. They throw me in the darkest, loneliest cell they have in town...and forget about me until it was time for trial. In the meantime...I fall deeper and deeper...

Into the pit that was my mind...

* * *

 **One month later...**

The day is June 4th, almost one month to the day of the tragedy. The normally quiet streets of Höger were now bustling with life, though for no particular holiday. The main thing on everyone's mind today was the event taking place on the town's square...which was the Arsonist's execution.

The past month had borne witness to a series of dramatic happenings in the village. A mysterious fire had destroyed the home of one of the more respected, yet lesser-known inhabitants in Höger. The building was burnt to a crisp along with the suspect's SO and niece...but strangely not the suspect himself. He was not at the scene during the time of the crime, nor did he try to stop the inferno or save his family when it started. This led many to believe that the homeowner himself was the one who started the blaze, and the prosecutor constructed a motive to convince a jury. When faced with these accusations, the suspect didn't do himself any favors; he had proven unresponsive to all external stimuli for the past month. Nobody could get a word out of him, not even if the resulting testimony could have proven his innocence. So, with no reason to believe otherwise, the court judged the suspect guilty of Arson and double murder. The penalty was death by hanging.

This situation proved difficult to handle for everyone with ties to the suspect. The lady's uncle, Rypka, was distraught when he heard the news of his remaining families' death. Although at first, he was skeptical of the suspect's guilt, he eventually came around (like much of the other villagers) after the proceedings of the trial. Now, he has sworn to personally watch the execution with his own two eyes...if only to see the life leave the eyes of the man he now despised.

Meanwhile, Canas and Camille still maintain his innocence. As the duo closest with the suspect, this came to nobody's surprise, but they still received constant scrutiny for their continued defense of the man. They were the ones that handled his legal defense in his incapacitated state...but their efforts had failed. Without the Commander, nothing can overturn the will of the jury...yet even they doubted he could save Samuel from his cruel fate...

It was a rare sunny day in the village, and a light brisk covered the air. The crowd of humanity had since settled down around a lone scaffold in the middle of the town's square, and there was an unshakeable aura of vengeance. They shouted obscenities at the convict and pelted him with stones as made his way to the fated noose.

"Murderer!"

"You animal!"

"How could you?!"

These words bounced off him like the rocks that bruised his skin. He appeared to be in his own world...not that it made any difference for the bloodthirsty audience. They beckoned the executioner to remove the black hood that covered his face...but the older man hesitated.

An elderly man shakes his fist in the air, "Take it off! Let the people see this man for who he truly is!"

Rypka added, "Let me see into the eyes of the man who killed my niece!"

Canas shakes his head in distaste, "No! Let the man keep his dignity! We can at least aff-"

An Illian soldier grabs Canas by the scruff of his collar and then pushes him back.

"Are you bloody serious?! Disregard what this fool says and take it off!"

The crowd, feeling the tension in the air, breaks into a chant.

"Take it off! Take it off! Take it off!"

The executioner bites his lip. It's always been a tradition amongst his profession to leave the hood on unless the convicted himself requested for it to be removed...but the rowdy crowd made him uncomfortable. There have been stories o' plenty of the audience overpowering the men like him when their desires weren't fulfilled, so there was only one thing to do. The only thing he can do.

The nervous man removes the convict's hood and throws it out towards the crowd. The convict's unkempt white hair, heterochromic eyes, and lifeless gaze were visible for all to see...and the crowd briefly breaks into a silence...

But they soon return to their jeering ways...

"I hope you burn in the deepest pit of hell!"

"We trusted you, Samuel! How could you bring harm to the people that loved you?!"

"Laniakea had so many years in front of her! She was the joy of our village! We loved her!"

"A bloody Missurian like you didn't deserve custody of that angel! You're all murderers! The lot of them...!"

The executioner brings the convict beneath the scaffold, and he ties thick noose around his neck. The executioner was rather rough about it, but he didn't seem to notice the bruises about his neck. He continued about with his same blank expression, even when faced with the surrounding torment.

Canas frowns and worryingly looks over at his friend. He tightly grasps onto the anxious hands of his wife...and awaits the inevitable...

 _It's a shame...if only Samuel could plead his own innocence. That entire trial would've unraveled had it not been for a crucial piece of testimony...but my friend is locked within a prison deep inside his mind. My uneducated peers don't understand that...and now they want blood._ _Oh Samuel, why does it have to end this way?_ Canas thought.

The executioner places the convict's person on a retractable board above the ground. With the flick of a switch, the ground underneath him will disappear, and the force of the rope will snap his neck...killing him. All that was left now was the formalities, and the executioner hurried to honor them.

He extracts the death warrant from his robe and beckons for the attention of the crowd. The crowd respectfully falls silent, and they allow the man to begin his proclamation...

He bellowed, "Good people of Höger. Today marks the execution of a convicted murderer and arsonist, Samuel! His charges were for the confirmed killing of his lover Alexia, and the presumed killing of his niece Laniakea. The penalty is death!"

He turns over to the convict, "Convict! Do you have any last words?"

"..."

The convict stares blankly into the ground. The executioner found this behavior odd but continued on anyway.

He exclaimed, "Very well! You will now serve you-"

"WAIT!"

The executioner loses his train of thought, and the entire crowd focuses on a small orphan boy running towards the scaffold. He had soft chestnut-brown hair and a simple white patch on his rag-like clothing. He was none other than Manny, Laniakea's best friend.

He pleaded, "Mister Sam! Please tell me you didn't do it! Tell me you didn't kill my best friend!"

The executioner exclaimed, "Leave the execution area boy! I'm warning you!"

To everybody's surprise, the boy leaps onto the wooden platform and grabs onto the convict's leg. He leaves the executioner with no choice than to kick the young lad onto the ground...

"Oof!"

He hits the ground with a hard thud. Manny screams in pain, and one of the local women scolds the executioner for resorting to brute force so quickly. The man ignores her and begins making his way to the door's switch...

Meanwhile, the convict's eyes lock in on the pained body of his child's friend. A wrinkle of inner sensation tickles his face...and a single tear falls onto the ground...

* * *

 **?...**

 _Sam..._

 _Samuel!_

 _Wake up!_ _We've been over this! We can't lose any more time!_

 _If they kill you then nobody can rescue your daughter!_

 _During the trial, they said they never found her body..._

 _Please...snap out of this trial of repose..._

 _Do it...for her..._

* * *

 _Wa...What?_

 _What's going on? What's this tight feeling on my neck?_

I look around at the hazy scene before me. My acquaintances, my neighbors, and fellow village folk were sending jeers my way. A large man with a black hood looms nearby, and his presence sent a chill down my spine. I squint my eyes towards the little boy writhing in pain...

 _I know this boy...Manny!_

A flood of memories burst through my mind, and I finally grasped the gravity of the situation. Concentrated fear sends a shot of adrenaline through my body, and I struggle in a bout to break through the rope binding the back of my hands...

I exclaimed, "Get me off this thing! I didn't kill Lani and Alex! It was that bastard Nergal! I've been framed!"

Several loud gasps echoes through the crowd...

"It appears that he can talk after all."

"Maybe the boy caused something to stir within him."

"It's a bit too late for that though. He should've made his case before the jury when he had the chance..."

The executioner barked, "Shut up you rat! You've had your chance already...I don't care who or what a Nergal is. Close your eyes and submit to your fate!"

Then, without hesitating, he flips the switch of death. The retractable board below me opened, and I lost all the only support keeping me alive...

Time slowed down. I see Canas consoling a sobbing Camille far away, with her tears streaming down her face like a river. Manny looks at me with a mixture of pity and relief in his eyes, it appears he had accepted my plea for innocence. A trio of caped crusaders was idly standing nearby by the door side of a restaurant, with one man gripping onto a pair of twin black swords. I couldn't see their faces as their large hats obscured my sight.

 _Huh...it doesn't look like they're from here. Why do I feel like I know them?_

 _Well...it's not like I can find out. My only real regret is that I could never fulfill my promise to my daughter..._

 _I wish I could have..._

But, as they say...

Fate had other plans.

Just as my neck was about to make impact with the rope, I feel a tight warmth near my chest cavity. A mysterious numbing sensation then flows through my entire being...just like the one I experienced when I traversed through the void. This was not the feeling of death...but the work of a little-understood and chaotic force.

 _!_

To the astonishment of everybody in attendance including myself, I harmlessly fall onto the ground. My knee hits the ground hard, but my composure is hit harder. I look up towards the sky to see a lone, uncut noose.

 _What the hell?_

I quickly piece one and two together and realize that I had just _phased_ through the matter contained within that rope. I was clueless about how this could have happened...but the panicked sounds of the crowd remind me that my life was not safe yet...

"What is this sorcery?!"

"How can this be?!"

"This must be the work of the devil. Burn him at the stake!"

I eye my surroundings for a way to escape but find myself grasping for straws. The underside of the scaffold has been cordoned off by a tough mesh of barbed wire, and I honestly doubted I could muster the will to phase through matter again. I briefly considered jumping through the retractable door to make my escape, but the armed executioner quickly shut down that idea.

He raised a broadsword over his head, and my heart sank. There was no way I would get around him. It would take more than an unexpected miracle to evade the blade of justice.

The executioner exclaimed, "I may have failed to kill you once, but I'll be damned if I were to fail twice. Prepare to meet your maker!"

CLINK!

"Argh! What is the meaning of this?!"

The burly man swings his sword only for it to interlock with another. To my amazement, someone had come to my defense...

A familiar face...

My savior looks back with his sword firmly in his grasp. Alcohol reeked from his body even from this distance...pirates never were ones for consuming in moderation.

He remarks, "Long time no see Samuel. You never seem to catch a break don't you?"

It was Yanden. Far away, I can see the approaching figures of Barthillas and Matthew...

The sight of them felt empowering. It was clear they were here to rescue me. Tears of joy blot my eyes...

Maybe I'd be able to fulfill my promise after all...


	49. Holiday Special

**Holiday Special: Christmas in a Foreign Land**

 **By SodiumChloride12, derived from Fire Emblem, owned by Nintendo.**

 **A/N: Surprise! Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to all my readers! I understand some of y'all don't celebrate Christmas, but considering the winter holidays I found it wise to write a special on this holiday. Don't worry though, I won't have any religious undertones in this story. The canonity of this chapter is questionable, though that won't be known for certain until the main story's end.**

 **P.S: I was expecting to post this on Christmas Day, but I finished editing this fairly late on Monday. It's bound to be Christmas somewhere right?**

 **Anyway, I did really well on my finals! I'm committed to at least another semester of college, but I won't be starting classes until late January. On a side note, I'll be regularly posting again starting this Friday, so look out for that!**

 **N: The year is December 25th, 988. The forces of evil have fallen, and Samuel lives happily married in the city of Bulgar. Much has happened since the final battle ages ago, and our hero has since retired to a peaceful life close to the beloved plains of his spouse. Today, Samuel desires to relive old memories of his fading past, and an old friend volunteers to help do just that...**

* * *

Snow falls on Bulgar tonight. It's nowhere as fierce as my old home in Illia, but the cold flurries dance as the melt on my skin. The blanket of frost reminds me of my white-haired niece, a lass whose temperament matches the ferocity of her Aunt...

"Uncle Sam! Where are we going?"

Lani tugs onto my long-sleeve jacket as we walk together on the frozen sidewalk. Our entire family were making our way through the city boroughs to meet with an old friend, a lady whom we became well acquainted with in our past few years of residence here. She was there since the very beginning, the day when we moved back to Sacae, and the day we first trekked through these streets on the dawn of our journey nearly six years ago...

I said, "We're going to meet with Auntie Anne. I think Aunt Lyn told you yesterday about this right?"

Today marks the 6th anniversary of my marriage to the love of my life, Lyndis of the Lorca tribe. I proposed to her several days after the final battle with Nergal, and to my elation she accepted. Together we married within a month of Eliwood and Ninian's ceremony, and Lyn gave up her claim to Caelin to return to the plains she held deep in her heart. Despite the loss of her birthright, we both got we wanted in this arrangement. Lyn got to return home while I found steady employment in the city to support our growing family. Even with the five years of living together, the love shared between us was as strong as it's ever been.

Speaking of family, it wasn't just us and Lani anymore. Six months ago Lyn gave birth to twins, a boy named Kai, and a girl named Carmel. They both had green and white hair respectively, though it was Carmel who inherited my curls while Kai maintained his mother's legacy. Oddly enough, the magic Niime used on me ages ago had changed my very DNA...though gladly it appears to have no repercussions other than resulting in a peculiar hair color.

Lyn said, "I don't really know about this, Samuel. Is it really okay to leave the kids with Anna? I mean...something could happen."

Lyn...is an amazing mother. She's helped me out in caring for the kids with everything she's got, even while holding down a part down job tutoring local students in swordplay. She's patient, loving, and very communicative towards both myself and the kids. I couldn't ask for anyone else to call my wife.

I replied, "I think the children will be in good hands. Anna's about as charitable as they come, and she has plenty of battlefield experience. Kai and Carmel will just sleep through the night, and I'm certain she has something fun planned for little Lani. She loves to dote on her."

Anna is a merchant, but tonight she closed up shop to look over our kids. As a lass whose single status was something she cherished, she always ate up any opportunity to look after our little ones. I wonder if she secretly wished that she had children to call her own...but the call of the almighty gold coin was stronger than any motherly urge.

Lani said, "Wait...you're leaving me with Auntie Anne too? I want to go with you guys!"

There she goes again. My relationship with Lani's been as strong as its ever been, and now we've settled into an amicable uncle-niece chemistry. She's aged considerably since the day we first met; now she looks the part of an idle nine year old. Just like most little kids she's always on the lookout for attention from either myself or Lyn, though admittingly we have been spoiling her somewhat.

I shake my head, "No _princesa_. Uncle Sam and Aunt Lyn want to go on a date, and if you're there, then you'll just get bored. Aunt Anne has plenty of books for you to read...and I know you two will have lots of fun!"

"Really?"

I reassuringly kiss my niece on her snow covered forehead. She returns the gesture with a warm smile reminiscent of the morning sun.

I said, "Of course. When have I ever let you down...?"

 **...**

We eventually make our way to Anna's front doorstep, and I knock on the wooden door. My breath condenses with the cold as we patiently wait, and I bring Lyn and Lani closer as to protect both ourselves, along with the two infants we carried in our arms.

 _It's cold...I'm getting worried about Kai and Carmel. I'm hoping we covered them up okay..._

After a few seconds, we hear a disjointed array of fidgeting in the door's locking mechanism...and it opens revealing a red-haired woman in her mid-twenties. She wore a nightgown becoming of a lady of her stature, though her waist carries with it a child-like teddy bear.

She said, "Samuel! Boy, you don't look a day above 26! Oh, and Lyndis...you're as beautiful as ever!"

That's right...I'm 26 years of age. Lyn is 24 now, with her being two years my junior. I had forgotten how fast the sands of time blew through one's life, though my bones don't. My body still aches from time to time over old wounds I had suffered during my warrior days...

Lyn said, "I can say the same about yourself! Have you been trying some new product on your skin? You look 6 years younger!"

Anna blushes from her friend's compliments. For Lyn, remarks like this came as often as rain during a storm.

She replied, "Why yes I- oh what am I saying? Come in, come in! You must be freezing out there!"

Anna opens the door for us, and we enter her home. Her dwelling was a small one, though still of higher quality and size of the average Bulgaran household. She had a kitchen overlooking the living room, and a bedroom flanked by two guest rooms. The fireplace politely provides heat to the whole structure...which is enough the shake the frostbite from my feet...

 _Warm...it's so warm..._

Anna said, "So I take you want to spend some time alone together? Maybe go for a night on the town, or get lost in wilderness somewhere? Perhaps even work on getting me some more nieces?"

Lyn and I's faces blush, while Lani looks on confused. She latches onto Lyn's hand and asks the question I've been dreading.

"Work on getting some more nieces? What does that mean Aunt Lyn?"

She replied, "I-It's nothing Laniakea. Erm, Anna, I'm afraid you must make do with the ones you've got now. Given Samuel's...condition...it's a wonder we managed to be blessed with Kai and Carmel within 5 years. Please understand..."

Lyn is referring to the fact that technically, Kai and Carmel's existence should be impossible. All homunculi are created sterile, and reproduction is only possible by means of quintessential manufacturing. However, whether it be by blind luck or by divine intervention, Lyn managed to conceive naturally. Both Kai and Carmel are miracles within their own right.

Anna sighed, "It's a shame. I was looking forward to the day this house is filled to the brim with bouncing toddlers. Oh well...a lady can dream."

I chimed, "You'll serve well as a rich Aunt."

She laughed, "Haha...I suppose you're right about that..."

Anna...is probably one of the richest folks in town. A lifetime of deal-making had resulted in her founding her own company, one that specializes in selling goods at a very respectable price. She's often lauded for her fair treatment towards her workers and consumer alike, and her generosity towards the poor has made one of the most popular people in town. A person like her should be living in a mansion, but her charitable deeds have regulated her to a respectable living inside a comfortable cottage.

In her own words, "What's the fun of having all this money if you're not going to spend it? The job of the wealthy should be to uplift their community...not to add into the never-ending cycle of poverty..."

Anna takes a glass of water and sips it. She motions at us both and then gestures towards the idle guest room...

"Alrighty then. Just set the children in their crib and leave Lani to me. I'm sure you two don't want me to keep you waiting..."

* * *

Lyn and I snuggle closely by the fire. Our bodies shiver as the outside winter air stubbornly leaks through our thick wool jackets, but it quickly goes away when we drink out of our cups of hot chocolate. The Carazanite chocolate sends a serene aura through both of our taste buds...and we savored every moment of it.

We were at Cuvee's Coffee Shop, a cafe located here in Bulgar. It's a happy little establishment tucked behind the many shops here at the city's business center, and it's become a popular spot for younger patrons. This place is the first and only cafe to offer coffee and chocolate, both of which are delicacies limited to the city-state of Carazan. The coffee shop recently opened last year at the end of the Carazanite Civil War, and it serves a peaceful reminder that all misery...no matter how extensive...will eventually come to an end.

The barista comes over and offers another cup of hot chocolate, but I decline. Instead, I situate myself closer on the sofa we were relaxing on and wrap my arm around my wife, whose blushing face reciprocated with a perky kiss.

She said, "It feels like our love never faded throughout these years. I know I was hesitant about this, but I'm really glad you took me out today. I know with your work and the kids...that can be hard..."

I shake my head, "I should be telling you the same thing. The effort you're putting towards our kids and our relationship is equal if not greater than my own. I feel indebted to you...I'm truly fortunate to have a wife like you."

"Oh Samuel..."

I close my eyes and rested my head against hers. Between the loving grasp of my spouse, the fire, and the sofa, I feel like I could easily pass into a blissful sleep. I would've loved do it too; the many hours laboring for the guild have left me spent beyond comprehension. However, I knew that was outside the realm of possibility. Not if I wanted to treat Lyn to a day she would never forget.

Lyn sighs, "You know...I still feel worried about the kids. Not so much about Laniakea...but about Kai and Carmel. You know what I mean...right?"

Kai and Carmel are a sickly bunch. As two half-human half-homunculi beings, their biology is bound to be unique in some way...though it quickly became clear that their immune systems were not tailored for common ailments like myself and Lyn. Erk suggested that eventually it would come up to par as they got older, but for now that is yet to be seen.

I replied, "I made sure Anna sterilized her home before tonight. Don't worry, I've taken every precaution."

Lyn's face widens with a warm smile. It's funny really...ever since the day we met its always been the same...but it never fails to make my heart flip.

She said, "Oh my...it's like you can read my mind."

I chuckle, "Haha. I can blink through walls but I can't read minds. Your husband's just very observant."

Lyn teased, "And handsome too..."

"Not as stunning as you though..."

"Aw..."

I finish the last few droplets of my beverage and offer to put away Lyn's ceramic mug. She accepts, and on my way back, I find her playfully resting her chin above the sofa's leather headrest. Her eyes radiate at me like a burning star, and her hair flows out of the sides of her dark green beanie like a somber waterfall. Her thick overcoat is reminiscent of a Parisan lover, and it matches the black fleece jacket I wore over myself.

She said, "Now...where would you like to take me? It doesn't matter to me, all I care is to be with you my love..."

A moment of silence fills the air, and we lose each ourselves in each other's gazes. A pair of green and brown fixated on a set of pure green. We smile...and laugh like we used to in our teen years.

I said, "I'll be your master strategist..."

"And I'll be your peerless warrior..."

* * *

"Samuel, why are we here at the Cathedral?"

"You'll find out soon enough..."

We were at the Her Lady's Cathedral in Bulgar, with its namesake deriving from Saint Elimine herself. It's a huge structure located a few blocks away from the cafe we just left, and its usually full of repentant parishioners praying their sins away. However, today it's uncharacteristically empty save for a single deacon snoozing away on a pew.

 _Eh...he's a heavy sleeper. He won't wake up until tomorrow._

The cathedral is as simple as the people that worshiped in it. Its white walls were cracked with age, and the caramel chairs creaked with even the smallest application of force. The large, domed roof provided great acoustics, the exterior of which were lined with delicate, albeit beautiful stained windows. The after-mentioned windows were the only extravagance splurged on this holy place, and it was a treasure the humble people of Bulgar enjoyed.

With Lyn's hand firmly in my grasp, we waltz over to a desolate corner of the church and uncover what I've been looking for this whole time. Sitting idly on top of a brown-bricked floor was a dusty, black table-like structure with a single seat. I give Lyn a suggestive, if optimistic wink.

I said, "You ready to listen to what I've been working on?"

Surprised, she said, "No way. You know how to play the piano?"

"I used to take lessons in my younger years. I was pretty good at it too, but I got disillusioned and stopped playing. But...my wish to perform for the lady I love propelled me to find motivation again...and so here we are..."

"Samuel..."

I clear my throat and wipe away the dust from the matte pad covering the keys. Opening it, I rest my fingers just above the G, B, and D keys respectively. A chord for whose name I've since forgotten, but the notes stay forever ingrained in my mind.

 _Alright Samuel...you've been practicing for this. Just play from the heart..._

I initiate the keys and three perfectly tuned notes escaped into the air, molding and dancing into a beautiful major chord that warms my soul. Lyn's face blushes as the intro touches her heart.

She said, "Samuel...this song...I recognize it..."

That's because this very song is the same one I had sung to her six years ago, during the first night of our honeymoon...

* * *

 **Six years ago...**

The full moon radiates in the night sky, basking the landscape in a coat of silver. The sacaen grass moves with the wind as a light breeze kisses the earth with its grass, resembling waves in the open sea. The land was as flat as flat could be...but the never-ending plane was oddly comforting. It served as a remainder that just as complex features like waterfalls, mountains, hills existed in the earth...there too existed simpler counterparts. At this point in my life, I was ready to discard the convoluted burdens in my life and take on a simple existence, not dissimilar to the ideal I've kept hidden deep within my mind.

"Lyndis...do you think...you and I will have a simple life going forward?"

We were lazily loafing by a single tree atop a small hill. We had married a week ago in a simple ceremony in Pherae surrounded by friends, and it was truly a memory to behold. However, that is a story for another time. For now, we had retreated to the place where it all began...

Lyn looks at me with a slightly confused expression on her face. It was the same one she'd give if I had miss-pronounced a food item on a grocery list or committed some elementary math mistake, but my question carried much more weight than that.

"What do you mean?"

I said, "I mean like...we've gone through so much up till now. We saved the world and all but...I'm tired of it. I just want to live in a place where we can just live for ourselves. A truely simple life...just between the three of us..."

Understanding what I had meant, Lyn nods her head.

She said, "I don't see why not. We can stay here at my ger for a while, and we can live off the land for as long as we want. It'll be just like my younger years...except you'll be here with me."

Thinking about that existence compels me to smile. It was entirely stress-free; I wouldn't have to worry about rent, work, or stingy nobles. It would just be Lyn and I making our way in the world with our own two hands, completely of our doing. At first glance this appears to be the best thing to do long term...but I knew better...

I said, "I'd really like that honey...but you know we can't stay out here forever."

Lyn frowns, but even she knew this was nothing more than a dream.

She replied, "Yes...I understand. The land is blessed with many gifts, but I doubt we can truly live in anything other than subsistant poverty. I know you want more for us...and you know...for any kids we may bring into the world."

I nervously sigh and wrap my arm around Lyn tight. Off the corner of my eye, I spied the green ring that was on her ring finger. Blood rushes to my face…

I said, "D-Do you really want kids? I don't want you to feel pressured just because you have my last name now."

"I do want kids!"

In a passionate display of will, Lyn inadvertently blurts out her intentions. I can't help but feel astonished and smitten towards my blushing wife.

She composed herself, "Erm...do not fret about that my love. I know it's going to be hard because of your condition...but I'm willing to give it a shot. Home is where the heart is, and my heart lies with you, Lani, and our future..."

"Lyn..."

In one fell swoop, Lyn's tender body falls on me. Our bodies were closer than ever before, and our heartbeats whispered to each other like the familiar lovers they belonged to. I felt like I could take her right then and now...but I relented...

It would be inappropriate to do that here, not with Laniakea snoozing away in our home nearby. So, instead we settled with non-scandalous hand-holding…

I said, "Lyn, even with everything's that's happened, I'm truly glad to have started it all with you. Nothing brings me more happiness than knowing I'll be spending every day with you by my side."

"As do I. I'll do my best to be a good wife, as you'll surely do the same..."

"Of course..."

We stay there for a while, with our backs flat against the rounded earth. We talk about tales dating back to our fighting days, and the few trips we've spent stealing away moments for ourselves from the army. That truly was a mystical time, one convoluted with uncertainty towards the fate of both ourselves and the world. In a way, it's a miracle we fell in love the way we did, much less become a married couple.

Lyn said, "To think...my single worst enemy became my lover. You and I really have grown together haven't we?"

I agreed, "Indeed. Never in a million years did I think we'd end up this way...but I suppose time heals all wounds. I'm just glad we were able to give your people the justice they deserved. Now their souls can finally rest, and the mantle of the Lorca can be carried by the both of us."

With the main tribe gone and its remnants scattered, there was no one left to continue on their legacy. However, with my marriage to the last chieftain's daughter, we alone hold the keys to the tribe's future. Although our lack of numbers mean that we can again consider the Lorca a regional or even a local power, we will at the very continue on with an intact way of life.

 _That's all we need..._

Our descendants may be small in number, but I have a feeling we'll become more than a simple offshoot. We will exist forever in the shadows of history, whether it be in the lands of our forefathers or the many cities dotting Elibe. Our influence will be felt at every level of society...and who knows? Maybe we'll be glorified for our contributions...or ostracized by the very people that consider us outsiders...

But...for now I care about none of that. All I care about is the girl currently cuddling with me in the break of night, and my niece silently sleeping in rose-pink blankets. The former is the center of my attention for the moment...though there was one final thing I wanted to do before we fell asleep under these stars.

"Lyn...can I show you something?"

Curious, my wife breaks from her half-induced slumber and rests her beautiful pair of green eyes on me. Her eyes were something I'll likely never tire of looking at...

"Sure..."

She accepts and I retrieve something I'd hidden in the hollowed tree we were resting by. It's a six-string acoustic guitar constructed from Illian pine, and my spouse's eyes widen with astonishment.

She asked, "Samuel...are you about to serenade for me?"

I smile and strum put a simple G chord. This isn't the first time I've showed Lyn my skills with the guitar, nor is it the first where I played for her. Still, there was a certain importance in what I was about to play for her...

I said, "This song is about that time we went to Eliwood and Ninian's wedding party. I know it feels so plain to look back on...but something about that moment called out to me. Please...just listen to it. I might not have much of a singing voice, but I guarantee my playing will be up to par..."

Eliwood and Ninian's wedding was a blast. It was the first time I truly danced and interacted with my bride-to-be in a public setting, and we spent the night enjoying each other's company. It was a nice break from the misery we endured the month's previous, though admittingly I had a little too much to drink by night's end...

She replied, "I'll accept anything you give to me as long as you play from the heart."

"Lyn..."

She smiles and rests her head on my shoulder. She closed her eyes and waited for a harmony from her blessed lover.

She whispered, "Just okay from the heart...that's all I want..."

"..."

I clear my throat. In truth, this song was one I had heard in my old life...but its words still stayed in my mind even with all my memory loss. Piecing the words to the proper rhythm took forever to figure out, but it was all worth it for this single moment...

To show Lyn how much I loved her...

I take a deep breath, and sing to my heart's content...

 _"It's late in the evening; she's wondering what clothes to wear..._

 _She puts on her make-up...and brushes her long green hair..._

 _And then she asks me...do I look alright?_

 _I say my darling...you look wonderful tonight..."_

* * *

 **Present...**

 _"It's time to go home now...and I've got an aching head..._

 _So I give her my room key...and she helps me to bed..._

 _And then I tell her...as she turns off the light..._

 _I say my darling...you were wonderful tonight..._

 _Oh my darling...you are wonderful tonight..."_

I finish the last lyric and play the last note. By the end of it all, I had sung to my heart's content...and the cathedral was silence once more. Lyn looks on with tears in her eyes, and in my moment of passion...I never noticed.

 _I-I blew it..._

I sadly lower my head in defeat. Despite the hours transcribing the notes from guitar to piano...it appeared all for naught.

I said, "Lyn...was it something I said? I knew I never should've done this...I'm not that good. I knew better..."

Lyn shakes her head and wiped the tears from her eyes. It was a mistake to assume these were tears of sadness. In fact, they were tears of joy.

She said, "No Samuel, this is so thoughtful. It really felt like you sang from the heart, and I'm so happy. So...very happy."

We smile...and allowed ourselves to get entrapped in a long, passionate kiss. The air was as still and inviting as the calmest seas...

Until it wasn't.

"Hey, what do you think your doing?!"

My lips leave Lyn's and together we gander over at the direction of the voice. We both recognized it immediately; several years of parish participation will do that.

The deacon said, "You young people need to get out of here. The Creator doesn't want to see none of that."

I awkwardly smile, and chided, "O-Of course! My apologies, I'm afraid I let my emotions get the better of me. Erm...still I don't see what the problem is. What difference does it make if we make out in here or outside? An all-seeing god should have clarity regardless of where we are."

Lyn rolls her eyes and passive aggressively punches my arm.

She said, "Samuel, I'm sure the nice holy man is just trying to say that _he_ doesn't want to see us acting this way."

"Oh..."

I raise my hat respectfully and bid my apologies. Fortunately for me, the deacon was rather sympathetic and let us go without issue...

On our way out, the deacon said, "I expect to see you two for new year's service."

Lyn said, "Of course, you can count on it!"

Slightly disappointed, I nudge my spouse closer to the exit. I personally found new year's mass to be very boring, and I wanted to skedaddle out of there before this holy man convinces her to a night of volunteer work...

The deacon said, "By the way, we need help with the recept-"

"OH MY GOSH LYN, I FORGOT TO TAKE MY MEDICATION!"

Upon hearing that, Lyn proved much more responsive to my subliminal messaging. In reality, it _was_ true I forgot to take my medication today, the consequence of which is too terrible to describe with simple words. I only had several hours before s*** hit the fan.

Lyn said, "By Elimine...we need to run home! I'm sorry mister, but we must leave. I hope you have a good day...and Merry Christmas!"

 _Merry Christmas...?_

What Lyn said made little sense. Christmas is a holiday only celebrated in my old world, and I've only mentioned it a handful of times to her. Why would she wish the deacon Merry Christmas?

However, before I could ask, my spouse whisked me away into the cold air beyond the comfort of the cathedral. Between my confusion, frost, and sense of urgency I couldn't muster the strength to ask her why...

 _Lyn...why did you tell him Merry Christmas?_

* * *

 **Later...**

With the medication smoothly coursing through my veins, we leave our humble little home and escape into the streets once more. The avenues and sidewalks were mostly empty save for a few working adults and street urchins, though none of them paid us any mind. My hand was firmly under the warmth of Lyn reciprocal grasp, though my metallic counterpart still creeked from the sheer cold.

I said, "Lyn...where are you taking me?"

Lyn playfully lifts her finger towards her mouth. It's a gesture I've seen many times before, usually the result of some long-thought out plan...

She said, "You weren't the only one with a surprise today. You made me feel like your queen, and thus I'll make you feel like the king you deserve to be. So...I'm going to take you down the path of memory lane..."

"Lyn..."

I discard my suspicions and put my full trust behind my spouse. It wasn't a difficult thing to do; in the past our lives hinged in our ability to confide with each other.

After some walking alongside some playful teasing, we eventually make it to our final destination for the night. It was a place I hadn't expected to be at so soon, much less celebrate a long begotten holiday...

 _Why...why are we back at Anna's house...?_

Before I could ask, Anna's front door swings open to reveal two festive young ladies. They welcome us with open arms, and my mouth falls the floor like a rock.

 _Why...why do they look like that?_

Laniakea was dressed in a very adorable elf outfit. Her naturally, slightly pointed ears were complimented with a conical, green hat atop her head. On her upper body was a ridiculous-looking elven tunic, and on her tiny feet was a pair of curled red shoes. She completely wore the part of "Santa's little helper."

 _Oh dear lord, she's so CUTE! Any cuter and I'd get a nosebleed!_

I shift my attention to Anna, whose outfit was much less elaborate, with nothing more than khaki pants and an ugly Christmas sweater worthy of note. Still, the effort associated with preparing these outfits was nothing to take lightly. It must've taken them at least several hours, if not days.

 _But...why?!_

...

Then, it hits me. This entire time I had thought I was planning for my wedding anniversary, when in reality they were the ones preparing for the celebration of a holiday I hadn't enjoyed in nearly a decade...

Everyone exclaimed, "Merry Christmas!"

They shake me out if my train of thought, and Lani runs at me to envelop her arms around my legs. Her beating red eyes fixated with mine...and they radiate with nothing but love...

She said, "Merry Christmas, Sammy! I hope we can make today a holly, jolly holiday for you!"

Speechless, I said, "Lani I-I don't know what to say"

"Then don't! Just stand still so Aunt Lyn can put on your hat!"

"Eh?"

 _!_

My engineer's hat (a feathered hat similar in style to a tyrolean) is ripped out of my head and replaced with snug red Santa hat. Lyn looks at me with her smug face, though she too had a reciprocal green twin acting as her crown.

Lyn said, "It took me forever to knit this thing. Now, make me and your niece proud by putting this on..."

Lyn hands me a white beard and together, she, Lani, and Anna laugh as I reluctantly put it on. Now I wore the persona of Santa Claus, though a version of which that had put on considerably less weight.

 _Eh...lemme see if I can pull this off..._

"Ho ho ho?"

My relatively high-sounding voice cannot capture the low boom of Santa Claus, and my audience erupts with laughter. It was a ploy entirely at my expense, though it didn't mind me much. Pride was something I had shaken away a long time ago.

Lani said, "You're so funny, Sammy!"

Lyn said, "Amazing...simply amazing! The uncertainty in your voice was greatly amusing!"

Anna chided, "This Christmas holiday...I wonder if I could market this go the world. The profits to be made..."

I rolled my eyes, "Anna, you really never change do you?"

She merrily jogs over and pats me on the back, "Nope!"

 _I suppose entrepreneurs thrive on this sin of greed. You can't give to your heart's content if you don't have a knack for gold._

Anna laughs and then motions towards her kitchen table. They covered the oak surface with an array of meats, pastries, and other examples of good food. My eyes automatically lock onto a single bottle of red wine, and I lick my lips hungrily.

 _Wine..._

This particular brand of red wine bore its roots from the fine vineyards of Lyn's ancestral homeland, the canton of Caelin. Its taste is comparable to heaven on earth, and luckily for me the alcohol content was on the light side as well. Although the taste alone was enough for me to crown this beverage as my favorite, the minimal aggravation to my sleeping alcoholism was a huge plus.

I said, "Anna, you spoil me. I've been dry for over five years!"

I reach out for the wine, but I'm stopped by a slap directed towards my robotic hand. Lyn looks on with a disapprovingly…

She said, "If you love me and Lani, then you'll learn to control yourself. I want us to have fun, but not too much fun. Remember that we're older now, and we can't be drinking under the table like we used to."

Lani tugs on Lyn's pants. Never the wiser, she asks her on the nature of her statement.

She asked, "Aunt Lyn, what does drinking under the table mean?"

I replied, "It's nothing you should be worried about princess. Oh, and Lyn you won't have to worry about that tonight. I won't let anything get between me and my family..."

I graciously put my arms around both Laniakea and Lyn. My gratitude towards both of them was indescribable, and tears began to well up in my eyes.

I said, "I...I love you guys so much. This food...the merriment...y'all really captured the Christmas spirit. I'm so happy to have you two in my life...and you too Anna!"

I extend my hand and grab that red merchant by the back of her sweater. Always one to follow my example, Lani latches onto her in kind, and together we bring her into our now 4-way hug.

Anna squealed, "Too tight! I can't breathe! Little Lani you have more strength then you let on...!

We break away from the hug and take a seat for Christmas dinner. My stomach rumbles from the tantalizing aroma of the turkey, and my first urge was to devour it where it stood. However, doing so would mean turning my back on the true meaning of Christmas...

To appreciate your loved ones. Whether or not they were of your own blood, we should all appreciate one another. A proper Christmas always doubled as an impromptu Thanksgiving.

I extend my hands and wrap them around Lyn and Lani's. Their brows rose with confusement, and an explanation was certainly in order.

I said, "In my culture, we like to bow our heads and pray..."

Lyn asked, "For blessings from Saint Elimine and the Creator?"

I shook my head, "No..."

In my old life, my culture held three things above all else. These were Family, Friends, and Faith. The first two principles speak for themselves...but the last requires some deliberation...

I said, "I want to pray...for us. I want to pray for the wellbeing of everyone in this room, and I hope we can celebrate many Christmas' for years to come..."

"I love you guys. I hold nothing in higher regard than my faith towards my friends and family."

Lyn said, "Samuel...that's so thoughtful..."

Together, we all locked hands and lowered our heads. As the head of the household, it was up to Anna to lead us through this age-old tradition...

She said, "Well...here we are. To think only a few years ago we were in very different places, though admittingly I was in a much more comfortable place than you three. I'm...very glad that we're all here today. May death's grasp never near your door as it did before, and here's to a bright future!"

We raise our heads and lift our glasses for a toast. I take the moment to think about everyone around me…

Lani fumbles with her straw floating in a mug of apple juice, and she laughs as she blows bubbles through the amber-like beverage. We had gone through a lot together; our amicable relation is a far cry from the sheer distrust she used to have towards me. I love her like she's my own daughter, and I knew from the bottom of my heart she'll be a fantastic older sibling towards Kai and Carmel...

Next, I look at my wife. She's the person I put my life on the line for many times before, just as she did for me. Sure, she may not be the perfect human being; but she's somebody I can call my own. It's funny to think at one point we **hated** each other, even going as far to engage in a fight to the death. Still, there's no one else I'd rather call the mother of my kids, and I know we're bound for many happy memories in the future.

Lastly, there's Anna. She's become a good friend of ours since Erk and Florina are living their own separate stories...but she's an amazing person to have involved in our lives. She's always been there to lift the burden of our twins from us when we need it, and she's the one who's opened up her home for this occasion. I'm glad to have known her since the very beginning...

I look out the window and observe the snow picking up with the wind. It brought back memories of my low points in life wandering through the frozen plains of Sacae...but I can put that trauma to rest...at least for now. I'm surrounded by friends, family, and warmth...and there's no other place I'd rather be...

Lani drinks the rest of her apple juice and lets out a loud burp. The noise sounded like a kitten, and we couldn't help but laugh. She looks at me, and prances around like the little elf she was.

She exclaimed, "Happy Holidays…and a Happy New Year!"


	50. Mask

**Chapter 45: Mask**

 **By SodiumChloride12, derived from Fire Emblem, owned by Nintendo.**

 **A/N: Welcome back! My break and exams went pretty well, so now I'm super motivated to write again! Here's to returning to my regular schedule!**

 **So...I actually don't know if I'm doing a good job or not. I have 20 reviews but it's been a while since I got a recent one. I hope I _am_ doing a good job, the only tell-tale signs I have are from the viewership numbers...**

 **N: ?**

* * *

 **Somewhere, on the Sacaen plains...**

The crackling of the fire sends chills down my spine, and stars glisten on the night sky. My dust-wrenched throat takes in a deep breath of the warm Sacaen air, and my mind screams at me for hydration. I have no choice but to oblige and dig into my bag to retrieve my bearskin canteen...

My hand juggles in between an assortment of different objects, and a faint sound of rummaging leather tickles my ear. My finger jostled between a notebook, some provisions, and a painkiller, among other things. Eventually, I retrieve the object I so desperately desired. The container filled with fresh water I had procured at a nearby village...

 _Ah...this'll do..._

I uncork the canteen and raise the beverage to my mouth, but I stop short of reaching my mouth. It was impossible to drink in my current condition.

 _Oh...that's right. I need to take this thing off._

I briefly lift my mask and for a moment, my scarred face was visible for the world to see. I don't waste a second and gorge myself in this precious liquid, and savor every drop. Given the uncertainly in the plains, it could be days until I could have another adequate drink again.

 _Pity, oddly enough...I was expecting more._

Slightly disappointed, I returned my canteen to my pack and rolled over facing the stars. They were as beautiful as ever, and the sight brought back decaying memories of the one I love...

Laniakea, the red glimmer from the planet of Mars had reminded me of her adorable eyes. I had undertaken this journey in the hopes I could somehow reunite with her once again. If the dry scars in my body were any omen, I'm destined for a future of pain, misery, and destruction...all for the cause of a master I did not trust. Him nor the three cronies he had sent to watch over me. However, in my eyes it was all worth it. If just for a chance to fulfill my promise to my niece...the only light in my life.

With the death of Alexia, we only had each other now. She was likely rotting in a cell God knows where, probably suffering through whatever medieval atrocity Nergal could throw at her. Torture is a tool commonly used here in Elibe, and was a favorite among the people in power.

 _I don't like this thought at all. My little girl is tough...but how long could she last?_

Still, there's the possibility that she's unharmed, Nils and Ninian had no evidence of bruises or cuts after all. However, there's also the chance she could be dead already...but that's unlikely. I know that he's aware I'm alive, and should Lani still be as well he'll be waiting for the perfect opportunity to leverage her against me. So...the better question is what would I do should he offer the life of my little girl for say...the head of a lord? Would I accept?

 _!_

 _Agh..._

 _This'll have to wait for now..._

I press a cold rag against my head as another migraine violates the membrane of my skull. These had been coming more frequently as of late, ever since the injury Barthillas gave me in Caelin. This ailment was the sole reason I carried a few pills of acetaminophen and codeine in my pack, otherwise I wouldn't be able to think clearly throughout the day. My ability to think will be needed for the job I will soon be tasked with, that of the damned profession. The tactician of an army...

Barthillas, Matthew, and Yanden. These men had travelled all the way from Lycia to rescue me from the clutches of death, but I feel no gratitude towards them. Their goal...or rather the goal of their employer is geared towards the exploitation of me...so I'll be damned if I show them any warmth. They didn't need a happy, "go-getter" of a tactician anyhow...so I won't give them one. I'll work through with my cold hard intellect to win...at any cost...

Speaking of them, they were still sleeping soundly nearby. How easy it would be to just...run away from everything. To escape into the wide expanse of the plains and throw myself at the mercy of a tribe...but I knew that was stupid. Although I could easily integrate with them just as I had done in Illia, I understood that this would likely spell a death wish for my niece...so it was out of the question. Nobody in this planet will protect her but me; the Marquess couldn't care less about the wellbeing of one little girl. All that he cared about was securing his own power...just like any other autocratic monarch.

 _Come on Samuel, give him a break. I know I'm more angry than usual...but you can't just throw that man under the bus. He might genuinely care about your plight..._

I scoffed as I finished that thought. This man had tried to kill not just me, but her as well. How could I ever hope to trust him?

I shake my head and retrieve my notebook from my pack. At its front was a Latin cover with my name written on it, though the inside content is composed entirely in Spanish. Given the conspicuous nature of this world, I had done this to safeguard my inner thoughts from the prying eyes of both my enemies and allies. I open the journal and turn over to a date exactly one day ago...on the date of my rescue. I look back at my previous entries from time to time as to refresh myself on the goings of past events.

My focus intently on the messy words I had inscribed. My iris expands as they gander upon phrases like "Comatose", "Betrayal", and "Deal". To my relief, I could see my memory was like a leaky pipe in winter; still functional but otherwise troublesome.

I place my hand under my chin and think, _Hm, let's see how much of this I still remember..._

* * *

 **One week ago...**

Clang!

Yanden's black sword clashes with the executioner's matching blade and sparks fly. The surrounding crowd erupts into a swarm of panic, though neither fighter seemed to care. They reset their stances for another test of strength, and neither fighter aimed to disappoint.

"Arghhhhh!"

Clang!

Yanden shoots a look at me to run, and I don't hesitate to oblige. I squirm my way up from the scaffold's lower compartment and stand up just in time to dodge a stray blow from the executioner...

Crack!

The wooden floorboard directly in front of my right foot explodes into a dozen pieces. Embedding his sword within the woodwork, the executioner silent cursed at himself for his shoddy effort of craftmanship. I don't wait for him to pick it back up, and I take advantage of the fact he no longer had a weapon. I lower my shoulder..."

Biff!

"Ack!"

The towering man falls off the scaffold-like building during an earthquake. He hits the ground with a thud, with his head hitting the ground hard. Seeing this, I cover my mouth with my bruised hands...

I said, "By the Creator...is he alright?"

Yanden looks at him and then grabs my arm. He was rather forceful about it...so I figured I didn't have much say in where I was about to go.

He replied, "Aye...you've just given him a concussion. Just let him sleep it off. In the meantime..."

He extends his sword and whispers a short incantation into the runes of his blade. An ominous black muck surrounds it, and he follows up by pointing his weapon directly at the crowd in front of us. Whatever humanity was left lingering there wisely decided to run for their lives, lest they face certain death...

Yanden muttered, "Pity...I was just going to calmly ask them to step aside. No matter..."

He sheathes his sword and rushes me over to a trio of waiting horses on the town square. Meanwhile, the executioner looks around with a dazed look at his face, and a single villager lingered around clutching onto his bruised forehead.

She exclaimed, "Executioner! The convict is getting away!"

He looks over at the woman with a childlike expression, "The who?"

I feel a sting of pity for the man. As the recipient of many concussions myself, I knew how it felt being in a state of utter bewilderment. You'd forget where you were, and how'd you got there. Episodes of dizziness would follow, and sometimes killer migraines would make the rest of the day utterly miserable. This was not something I'd _ever_ want to deliver towards someone else willingly, especially if that someone was simply doing the task impressed to them by a higher power.

Still, it's not like I had a choice. The executioner was working towards a goal that directly conflicted with mine, which was survival. Had he been in my shoes, he most surely would have done the same thing. There are not many things greater than a man's drive to live after all...

"Samuel! Get on!"

I squint my eyes and notice that Yanden did not come to Höger alone. Standing by the horse was a nimble-looking Matthew, along with a heavily armed Barthillas. Their long hats and outfits reminded me of those old cowboys movies starring John Wayne, but in place of long revolvers instead existed a sharp dagger along with the mighty Fellbringer, respectively.

Barthillas' gaze follows behind me, and he immediatly drew his weapon. The holy hammer glistens with white light, with the heat greatly contrasting the surrounding cold.

He exclaimed, "You two! Get down! Illian soldiers are on your tail!"

The commotion at the town square did not go unnoticed. Several cadets were eating lunch at the nearby tavern when they heard the commotion outside, and all it took was the sight of a concussed executioner to spur them into action. Sword-wielding soldiers were quickly closing in on us, along with two Pegasi-mounted knights.

"Fellbringer! Bring me strength!"

He lifts the hammer and slams it onto the ground, sending a shockwave of white energy throughout the town. The force was great enough to trigger a minor tremor, and the result created a shroud of dust. Visibility was cut down to several feet...which was perfect for our escape...

Matthew grabs me by the scruff of my collar and throws onto the saddle of one of the waiting horses. I was unready to take the reins, but that didn't stop the young theif from slapping the behind of my steed...

He exclaimed, "We've got to go!"

I'm caught off guard when my horse lifts her front legs from the ground. I nearly fall off, but that doesn't stop her from gracefully prancing back onto the ground. Undeterred by the uncertainty of her rider, she lowers her head and charged forward, with myself only narrowly hanging on by the horn of her saddle.

"Woah! Easy there girl! C-Calm down!"

Had I possessed a moment to examine my steed, I would have realized that this horse wasn't just any horse. She was a Sacaen Stallion, a breed particularly sensitive to the heart of their rider. These stallions only obeyed the will of strong people, and they ignore all commands once they detected a hint of suspicion suggesting the contrary. In this case, the stutter in my words was enough to set her off, and I was now simply along for the ride.

"Ahhhh!"

I'm helpless as the beast barreled her way towards the village gate. The lone guard tried to stop my stallion, but he was effortlessly cast aside like a plastic toy. Regardless, she continued on like the good horse she was, and I could hardly believe my eyes when I realized we had done it...

We had escaped. I may not be a free man, but I'm definitely alive...

"Neigh!"

"Agh! Oof!"

My body hits the ground with a thud. The stallion obviously didn't take a liking to my handling of her reins, and she made it a point by bucking me of her saddle. She looks at me like I was some bug to be squashed underneath her hooves, and a bead of sweat drips down the side of my face...

I said, "Hey Hey...no need to get feisty. We're on the same side remember? I think."

The horse blows out a thick stream of air out of her nostrils and then turns away to gorge on a stray patch of grass. I breathe a sigh of relief...

 _Thank goodness. I thought she going to hurt me..._

"Samuel!"

I turn around and see Canas running towards me. For the time being, neither of my trio of saviors were visible…

I replied, "Canas! Boy, am I glad to see you!"

He closes the distance and we quickly exchange firm handshakes. This was the first time we'd been able to speak to each other since my birthday.

He asked, "Are you alright? That look in your eyes you had earlier...it was unsettling. I didn't think you'd ever snap out of it..."

 _Ugh...yeah. I forgot I've been overcome with despair for a whole month. Canas and Camille must've been worried out of their minds...and they were right to be so. During that entire period, I felt like I incarcerated my conciousness behind an impenetrable cell of my own emotions...I hadn't felt this way since that day I attempted to take my own life..._

 _The only silver lining is that this time I managed to keep myself alive long enough for rationality to prevail. Something was keeping me going during those dark times alone in that cell...but I don't remember what..._

 _Oh, that's right. Those pleasant memories. The smiling faces of Alexia and Laniakea kept me going...along with the happiness I shared with the others. I kept on hearing Laniakea tell me three words over and over...with each repetition building the resolve within me until I could finally break free..._

 _Now, what were those words again?_

I close my eyes, and suddenly remember Laniakea's familiar voice.

 _"I love you."_

I smiled and embraced Canas in a hug. He wasn't expecting this spontaneous demonstration of affection, but reciprocated regardless.

I said, "Canas, I'm afraid I'll be leaving you for awhile old friend."

His monocle nearly falls from his face, but he manages to keep it there. The aura around our interaction changed as well, now it became clear that this would become what could likely be a final farewell.

He said, "Oh...I see. That's a shame, I really would have liked you to stay here for a bit longer."

I shook my head and sighed, "I'm a wanted man Canas. I don't think I can ever show my face here again...but I can't think about that right now. Laniakea is still missing, and my loafing around has already cost me a month of lost time."

Canas asked, "Ahem. So...I'm assuming _he's_ come to take her?"

I nodded, "Yeah. It's a long story, but I don't have much time to tell you about it. After he set fire to my home, he must've sent an assassin inside to kill any stragglers. That assassin killed Alex...but for some reason that heartless murderer spared my little girl..."

I paused for a moment and held my tongue. The thought of Jaffar boiled my blood, and my hatred for him at this point was second only to Nergal...

I wanted to kill that man, if only to avenge the death of my late lover...

For now, I pushed my anger deep into the inner chambers of my heart and continued...

I said, "I...think Nergal has an interest in Lani's draconic blood. I read in Nicholas' book that supernatural creatures like those contained exponentially more quintessence than the average human...so I suspect that Nergal intends to use her as his own personal juice box if he hasn't killed her outright already."

A shiver travels down both of our spines. Quintessence extraction was an extremely painful process for a victim that was still alive...and that was a fact neither of us took lightly. That's why it was important to me I work quickly...

Canas asked, "Do you think...these men can help you with that?"

I shrugged my shoulders, "I'm not sure...but I kinda already have a feeling who their employer is. I suspect that it's within his interests to deal with Nergal. In order to do so, he'll most certainly require a tactician with experience in small-scale warfare...and I think I fit that mold perfectly."

Canas nodded, "I see, I hope you stay safe in your endeavor. By the way, who do you think is their employer?"

I replied, "Oh, probably Lord U-"

Bif!

Canas' eyes roll back and collapses onto the ground. Luckily, I catch him before he hits the ground, and I glimpse his attacker's red cape.

I exclaimed, "Matthew! You m*! Why did you knock him out?!"

He shakes his head, "There's nothing to be gained by letting him know of our plans, and it's better that he stays in the dark. There's a high probability that the journey ahead of us will kill us both...so if you have any love for your friend then I suggest you let him sleep."

 _Kill us both?_

I spy Barthillas and Yanden calmly approaching. Their clothes were dirty from all the dust cloud they sent up earlier, though a noticeable spot of blood was visible just under Yanden's collar...

I exclaimed, "Yanden! Please don't tell me you killed someone..."

He shakes his head, "No, unfortunately this is my blood. I sustained a nose bleed on my way here."

Barthillas chuckles and casually pats his brother on the back. A drip of blood falls from his previously clean nostrils.

Yanden protested, "Hey! Stop doing that!"

Despite their nonchalant behavior, I take an uneasy step back. It was at this moment that I recalled a vague memory from not too long ago...back when my body was still under Azazel's control...

 _Oh...I see Barthillas is still doing alright. He hit me pretty hard with that move of his...it even gave me a concussion. Man...the pain from that fight still feels familiar. It's enough to make me wary of him and his brother..._

"Aye, what's the matter?"

I was so entrenched in my thoughts I didn't notice Barthillas had wrapped his arm around me in addition to his brother. An intense sting of fear sends a shot of adrenaline through my body, and I push him away...instinctively grabbing onto my temple in the process.

"Ah! Don't hurt me!"

Barthillas said, "Don't worry about me, boy. Your head is in no danger right now. Settle down."

I raised my brow, "Huh? Last time I remember, you were _this_ close to killing m- I mean Azazel. Surely you don't feel the need to finish the job?"

Yanden replied, "No, our mission was to subdue the demon. Our intention was never to kill...but Barthillas unfortunately went a bit overboard in that. No one's ever survived his Sacrificial Light attack before...you're a lucky man to still be alive."

 _..._

The small string holding my mind together thins out slightly...and my right eye twitches...

I shot back, " _Lucky?_ Your brother's Fell- Fellgrabber or something like that gave me the worst concussion of my life! Azazel forgot who he was for a while, and the pain afterward was aggravating as hell! I still get some lingering migraines from time to time, and I won't doubt it if I start forgetting things soon..."

Matthew replied, "Pity, did you try drinking one of those soothing tonics?"

I nodded. A soothing tonic was that metallic elixir Serra gave me to treat my ailments all those months ago. It specializes in healing mild-to-moderate brain injuries, but it proved worthless in this case. The injury was far too traumatic for even the magic of this world to handle.

Barthillas said, "Well, I'm sorry but...there was nothing else I could do. It was either knock you out or let the demon _you_ allowed to control your body free reign about the helpless souls of Caelin. Might I remind you he nearly killed both Lady Lyn and Taliyah?"

Puzzled, I asked, "Who's Taliyah?"

The trio of men looked at each other with surprised looks on their faces. A tense moment of silence followed, and the wind pressed tightly against my back. This was worse than they thought.

Yanden asked, "Um...she's the nurse who treated your wounds after your fight with Rath. You two weren't fairly close, but were well acquainted."

The gears of my mind churned as they searched for a single memory of that nurse. They stressed as they travelled through the damaged passageways of my brain, ultimately stopping at an impasse located somewhere between a couple damaged neurons. The two cells were still healing from the trauma they had suffered long ago, but somehow they still produced a single image. The image of a blue-eyed, straight-haired, short blonde girl.

I said, "Oh...Taliyah! I swore that her name was Artoria or whatever...but yeah I remember her."

My audience breathes a collective sigh of relief. It would appear I hadn't completely gone over my head yet.

I asked, "So...how is Lyn doing? Is she alright?"

The brothers shrugged their shoulders, and Yanden said, "I'm not sure. By the time we left she was still in a coma..."

I raised my brow, something...didn't seem right.

"That's odd. I ran into her late last year. She was...healthy..."

 _Not only was she healthy...but she was out to get me. I wonder how she knew where I was...somebody had to surely have told her..._

Suddenly, I finally put two and two together. Pure, concentrated rage surges to my head, and the weight of all the injustices committed to me finally comes crashing down. The death of Alexia, the exploitation of my talents, the disappearance of Laniakea, the clear betrayal by Matthew's employer...it all culminated into one ball of heavy weight that causes the string in my mind to finally snap...

Off the corner of my eye, I see Matthew try to make himself as small as behind a pile of stray boulders. Just before he vanished from view however, I shoot him my evil eye.

The evil eye was a tool Hispanic men and women only reserved for situations that required discreet, yet absolute expressions of distaste towards another person. It was believed in my own culture that the eyes of a strong person could drain the power and soul of a weak peer regardless of the former's intention, and at least in this respect my weapon seemed to have worked. Matthew immediatly stops in his tracks, and his face drained to appear more like a meek weasel than an adult man.

I said coldly, "You...your people tried to kill me. Y'all gave her information about my location and sent her thinking she would finish the job your assassins couldn't do..."

I approach him and grabbed the man by the scruff of his collar. I let him peer deep into my now glowing green eye, and whispered words that could terrify even the strongest of men. It didn't help that I greatly outmuscled Matthew, I was both superior in terms of height and weight.

I scowled, "Not only did you show an _utter_ disregard for my well being, but you also endangered the life of the crown princess of Caelin. Your employer toying with the lives of others is something I find disturbing, and that makes him no different than Nergal. What makes you think I'd ever work with a man like that?"

Matthew squirmed under my grasp. My hand had glided over to his neck, entrapping him in a chokehold.

Yanden exclaimed, "Samuel! Stop it!"

My veins bulge through the surface of my skin, and for a moment anger nearly overtakes me. Had it not been for the sliver of resistance present at the back of my mind, I surely would've killed them there. But...what exactly was this sliver of resistance?

Laniakea's voice echoes through my mind again...

 _Sammy...what are you doing? Why are you going to kill this man? Would you do this in front of me?_

"Ughhh…"

I drop Matthew from my grasp and allow him to return to the relative safety of his companions. He took great care not to accidentally step on Canas' still comatose body, as doing so would light my already short fuse.

I glare at the three men with the same evil eye I had granted Matthew. I speak with an ominous tone with vile undertones.

"I want to talk to your employer, face to face. No more secrets. Your boss can be working towards a goal aimed at the greater good for all I know, but I don't care. You people will work on my terms...do you understand?!"

I honestly didn't care less if Matthew's employer was trying to save the world, as his methods to had already proved disastrous towards myself. Only one thing mattered to me, and that was the safety of my dear niece. The ends justified the means in my mind...even if it meant twisting the hand of my future client. Even if it meant embracing the abrasive side of my personality and taking on the role of the villain.

I smiled and let my sanity pass by the wayside for a moment. Nobody but myself saw this...but that was for the better. It took every ounce in my body not the break into a maniacal laugh.

If this world wants to treat me cruelly, then so be it. I'll damn this world just as it damned me, and I'll serve no man but myself and my family. This ancient world doesn't want to understand that, but I'll make them learn. Even if it means teaching them at the end of my blade...

* * *

 **Several weeks later...**

We've trekked these past few weeks through the beautiful prairies of Sacae, making good time save for the occasional run in with bandits. I mostly spent the journey in silence considering the tension that still stuffed the air, though this detail didn't disturb me one bit. My past toils in the Nabata Desert have already trained me how to deal with isolation, so I made do by losing myself in my thoughts.

 _Trust no one, especially nobody involved with Matthew's employer. Everybody in this world serves somebody, and you can't know what some lord may have in store for you. I...will not allow myself to be taken advantage of again._

 _The memories of my past misadventures still remain fresh in my mind. The few battles I fought for this employer...what was it all for? A few gold coins for a broken body and a world of pain? How about my literal enslavement by a nameless salt cartel in Missur? Hell, I even fought for Lyn's cause at no cost...what was wrong with me? Why did I side with her in the first place?_

 _..._

 _I don't remember. I suppose that's a problem I'll be having for a while now...ain't it?_

I knew that the concussions I had suffered in the past were beginning to haunt me. This constant healing in my brain will probably cause some form of CTE when I get older...but for now all I had to deal with was a marginal lack of focus along with some memory loss. From today onward I need to keep my head protected at all costs; another blow to the head could may as well trigger Alzheimer's down the road if it hasn't already.

 _Ugh...I need to come to bear with these new developments. I must adjust my life around these symptoms too..._

I regretted losing my old journal. After misplacing it somewhere in Sacea, I lost heart in the art of note keeping and didn't keep another one. I could solve most of my memory troubles if I could just read it again. Given my burgeoning forgetfulness I'll likely have to start another one...but that's manageable. My only fear is that one day I may forget who my dear Laniakea is, but I hope it never comes to that.

 _Try to remember her face every day Samuel. Keep her in your mind no matter what..._

We eventually make it Ostia in the middle of the night, and the full moon glistens in the sky. The streets were baron save for the lonely constable wandering the streets, and I found it odd how he was the only man watching over the capital of Lycia...

Matthew said, "Crime is hardly an issue in Ostia. We have a rather militaristic society here, most of the young people are in the military or works for them..."

 _Another militaristic society. Everybody's so focused on fighting each other that the tools required for soft power like economy, technology, and diplomacy have become second rate. No wonder the vast majority of the people here live as impoverished peasants. They make no inroads to improve their well-being, all the lords care about is the enrichment of themselves!_

Thoughts like these would be considered heresy if said them out loud, so I kept silent. My already distasteful perception of the nobility had transformed into abject distrust towards them, and Lord Uther was no different...

We continued walking through the relatively unimpressive city until we came across what appeared to be a castle. The structure was smaller than the fortress that loomed overhead, so I was curious about what this place was.

I asked, "Why does Ostia require two fortresses in their own town? Surely you're not terrified of the enemy within the safety of your mountains?"

Ostia is located in a valley surrounded by mountains. There were only a handful of ways an invading army could strike at the capital...

Matthew replied, "That's the first castle built by Roland when he founded Ostia. A future marquess found a more defensible location further north, which is where the seat of government is now. This structure serves as a school for Elibe's leaders, its name is Atalonia.

 _I see, so what he really means is that this is a place for the elite to mingle while the masses continues to stay uneducated. Despicable, absolutely despicable. Trash like this is making me wish I wasn't so apathetic to that that Carazanite's cause. What was his name?_

 _..._

 _Oh that's right. His name was Carvel._

Despite my pissed off demeanor, Ostia wasn't as stale as I perceived it as. The school itself looked beautiful, and the planned nature of the town was stunning. Residences were cradled within clean streets with ample room to walk, and nature seemed to hug with the buildings in an amicable union. Tall trees inhabited isolated pockets around town, with some homier ones containing nests with sleeping pigeons. Well-to-do shops had merchandise in display outside their windows, a symbol of the financial prowess Ostia contained as a singular city...

 _Well, Ostia has to pay for those troops somehow..._

Eventually, we make it to the front gate of Castle Ostia. A couple of knights wearing the thickest armor known to man guarded the thick exterior walls, with their steel suits completely obscuring any semblance of individuality. I couldn't even see the man (or woman's) faces, and an uneasy sense of dread washes through me.

I frown as the soldiers open the gate, and an anxious bead of sweat fell down the side of my face...

 _I will finally meet this mysterious employer that's been working behind the scenes. I may not like him...but that doesn't mean I don't feel nervous. I need to watch my words going forward...the Marquess has already shown a willingness to end my life if push comes to shove..._

 _ **...**_

Blue moonlight peers in through the tall windows of Castle Ostia. My eyes strain as I try to make out the faint silhouettes visible only by faint torchlight, with my pupils fixated on this tall, pyramid like structure at the end of the room. Iron men similiar to the ones guarding the front gate stood at either side of this magnificent throne, with whom I presumed as the marquess standing high out of view.

Uther claps his hands, and torches magically alight around the dark, damp stone room. I'm immediatly taken about by the simple, yet elegant murals over the wall. They reminded me of Italian frescoes I saw while observing over the ruins of Pompei...but these works were much colorful than the former...

Uther said, "Ah, I see you're impressed by the works of art I have adorning my great throne room. They're not just there for show you know, all of them tell some sort of story relevant to the tale of Ostia. That certain scene you see over there by the way...I think you can infer what it's about? The one with the shepherd looking over his flock?"

I nodded, and gaze over at the fresco in question. The scene was reminiscent of old Christian depictions with Jesus representing the shepherd and his devout followers likewise the sheep. To them, this was supposed to be an amicable gesture showing the Christian God's love and affection over humanity...but I quickly understood that this was not the case here in Ostia. A simple gander at the artwork could confirm this much.

To begin, the shepherd was not looking over his sheep with a serene gesture on his face. Instead, he wore an intense scowl that carried authoritative undertones, and his sheep hung their heads low like the insignificant animals he implied them to be. The flock huddled near this shepherd with a mixture of fear for both the man himself and the surrounding wilderness. A wilderness that can only be implied to be more dangerous than the bloodied knife the shepherd carried in his left hand.

 _This...is disturbing..._

Uther said, "Now now...I wouldn't be so choked up if I'd be were you. We created this piece with a pessimistic view of our role towards the commoners in mind. It reminds us royals what we can become should we ever indulge ourselves in power, nothing more than a tyrant whose feared by his own people. A ruler should never rule by fear alone, otherwise, the people may rise up one day to initiate regime change. That...has to be avoided at all costs."

He points his finger over at the shepherd directly. His clothes were unusual and were composed of wolf skin.

He continued, "This man may claim to protect the sheep from the wolves nearby, but his dress suggests otherwise. It shows his true nature does not differ from the wolves he's supposed to fend off, and thus he undermines the trust his people have given to him. This...is simply not expected from the Marquess of Ostia."

I replied, "Yeah...that makes me feel so much _better_ about this whole thing now. Propaganda sure is nice...ain't it?"

Matthew shoots me a look of shock and then quickly kneels before his lord. The two knights by Uther's side had now taken on a defensive stance...my sarcasm was not taken lightly.

He said, "M-Milord! I humbly apologize for the tactician's transgression! He...does not mean it."

I scoffed, "To hell I do. Somebody in your spy ring should've told you I don't respect nobility. All of y'all are the same egotistical, detached scum that have no sympathies with the common peasant. I long for the day they'll rise up to burn this whole system to the ground, and elect their own leaders to for a better future. All autocratic regimes end the same way...and although that may not come in your generation...I am certain your descendants will one day deal with their reckoning."

This monologue was damning, and I had said it with the sole purpose of setting off Uther's temper. My goal was to expose the man as the tyrant I figured he was...but it came to no avail. Lord Uther had more self-control than I initially suspected.

He gestures to his guards to stand down, and tells Matthew to stand up. Barthillas and Yanden were standing the front door with astonished expressions on their faces; they had likely predicted a worser result for my arrogance. For his part, Lord Uther spoke to me with...an uncomfortable calmness in my voice.

"I...understand you come from a different world. One where your people were much more free than here in Elibe...and may I say that you might be correct. Someday my people may rise and destroy the hand that feeds them, but until then I will do everything in my power to hang on to the reins. With that being said, there currently exists a threat that not only threatens me...but also every living being on this planet. I require your help in that matter...but I also want to get something clear..."

He glares at me with an imposing stare, and Matthew breaks into a cold sweat.

"You need to know your place. You are but a commoner in a world where your lineage dictates everything, and you should have understood that by now. In case you don't, I'll be happy to show you what happens to rebels in Ostia...but I hope it doesn't have to come to that. Unless...you never want to see your dear Laniakea again..."

I clench my teeth but hold my ground. It was a good thing I had a mask on, otherwise I would've lost face because of the untempered fury it was hiding. I briefly contemplate leaving right then and there, but I stay. I'd gain nothing by doing that...so I traded my pride for the opportunity to rescue Laniakea.

Uther leans back on his throne, and takes a deep breath. The tension in the room was choking now, and I had a feeling he was holding back from doing what he really wanted to do to me. In a way, I could empathize with this plight...and this was enough for me to build a marginal amount of trust with him.

 _Still not much though. He and I will probably always be on cold terms. A liberty-minded commoner and a royal will naturally be enemies...but I'll hold my own if he can as well._

 _But still, there's one more thing I want to get clear._

I said, "Lord Uther, if we're going to work together...then I want to make one thing clear."

Uther replied, "What is that?"

"If you want me dead, then don't send some poor soul to do your dirty work. Allow me to come down here to the castle grounds and grant you that task yourself. I won't go down easy. I'm tough as nails...and I will bring you hell."

Uther looks at me with an indifferent gaze, but I can tell that his mind was churning with my odd request. This was nothing short of an insult at my part...but he couldn't help but respect my aggression.

He said, "That won't be necessary. I trust that you will act respectfully and honorably, so there is no reason to plot for your death. Why fight each other when we should focus our power towards bringing down Nergal?"

 _Well, he has a point there..._

I replied, "Right...Nergal...to my understanding I'm to be involved in a certain mission. Care to flatter me with the details?"

Uther obliged, "Very well, you are to report to Pharae at the conclusion of this meeting. My intelligence ring has informed me that Nergal has been pulling together resources for something big...something that can end the world?"

 _The world?_

"Okay...but if this is as big as you're making it out to be then why don't you assemble a Lycian army to put him down yourselves? My expertise is dealing with smaller units...y'all would be much better with one of the educated tacticians from the academy. Large scale combat is not my forte."

Uther replied, "You bring on a good point young man...but had that been the case I never would've summoned you. Unfortunately, that vile devil is working underneath the shadows, and the only way we can deal with him is by responding with our own low-key forces. I've already brought up Nergal's plans with the league at an earlier date...but that didn't amount to anything. We need a small force that can easily travel from canton to canton or from country to country without issue..."

I said, "So you essentially want me to lead a platoon of non-affiliated mercenaries. You get the subliminal force you need while not creating a diplomatic nightmare. Your plan is ingenious...but I'll be needing the rank becoming of a platoon commander."

Uther nods, "Indeed. Henceforth you will be known as a Lieutenant."

 _Well...at least this whole arrangement isn't all bad. Being called a Lieutenant has a certain ring to it._

I said, "Alright, I accept this rank. Now, where are the troops I'll be leading?"

He replied, "Well, you see I can't provide you with any troops of my own otherwise the League may feel uncomfortable. You'll be tagging along with a young noble whose journey I think will ultimately lead us to the man in question."

 _Great, another noble._

Curious, I asked, "Erm, may I ask who this noble is?"

"Of course, though you'll likely have to kill that accent if you want any hope not to be discovered. He's a man you're well acquainted with, his name is..."

"Lord Eliwood..."


	51. End of Leave

**Chapter 46: End of Leave**

 **By SodiumChloride12, derived from Fire Emblem, owned by Nintendo.**

 **A/N: When I post this, today will be mark my 1-year anniversary writing fanfiction. It's been quite a ride y'all, and I've learned a lot...while having fun too! I hope the handful of readers who've stuck around since day one are happy with the way this story played out, and I pray y'all will be pleased with how it'll end by the finale. The storyline's been bustling in my head for a while now, and I'll do my best to make it come to life in a way that's truly fulfilling!**

 **Just thought it'd be fun to talk about numbers. I have about 338k words on the net right now, with about 56 followers and 48 favorites. I had about 17k total views back in 2019, with 21 reviews. Although these numbers aren't impressive by any means, it's still fairly nice considering this type of story has been dead since the early 2010's. I hope to improve with these numbers for 2020, along with implementing any improvements in further writings and sequels.**

 **I think I will write a short excerpt for the proto-sequel by the end of January. The proto-sequel will be a Three-houses/Harry Potter-like series about the events between FE6 and FE7. It'll be based in a school in Ostia, with canon characters like Lyn, Roy, Wolt, Lilina, and Clarine having a big role. The whole thing will be anywhere between 150-300k words, though I haven't decided yet. I have some time to think about it, but I'll let y'all know ASAP.**

 **Woohoo! I'm just so excited thinking about this! I have a lot of things planned for 2020, and it makes me happy knowing I'll be writing for a long time. Here's to a fantastic year...and stay salty!**

 **P.S: I got the most amazing review from one of my readers. Whoever that guy/girl is...you have my eternal thanks. I'll be sure to keep up the intensity!**

 **N: We shift our focus from Samuel onto a different hero. That of the lordling Eliwood, whose story will soon intersect with our hero...**

* * *

 **Pherae...**

 _The air feels warm and fair. It's perfect weather for traveling..._

Lord Eliwood looks out at the familiar Pharean sky. It was blue and filled with puffy white clouds, some of which reminded him of the chilly snow from the previous winter. That was a simpler time then, back when he still had his father keeping him company...

 _Lord Elbert, father...where are you...?_

...

"Lord Eliwood."

Eliwood puts away the thought of his father and addresses the older man at his command. He's a stout, purple-haired veteran named Marcus, and he's one of the kingdom's most respected knights.

He said, "Marcus, is something the matter?"

Marcus shakes his head. Eliwood observes the flawless piece of brown armor that ordained the physique of his mentor, a masterpiece of toughness that matched the physical and mental intensity wielded by him. Eliwood could never hope to wear armor like that, such fantasies were best left towards bigger folks like his friend Hector.

Marcus replied, "Nothing at all your Majesty. I have arranged for everything that you have requested. Your mother is here to see you off, and we're ready to leave at your word."

"Very well. I appreciate it, Marcus."

Turning his head around the friendly Pharean plain, he spies his mother a short distance away from himself. She's a purple-haired woman with a serene aura about her, and she's standing next to her steward, an up-and-coming lady of the sword named Isadora.

Isadora is the only female knight in all of Pharea. As the lone heir of her minor noble family, they entrusted her with continuing the family legacy. Thus, she became one of the most famed and lauded knights in the Pharean service, much to the delight of young girls everywhere.

She said, "Milord, your mother would like to speak with you."

Eliwood's mother approaches him and then gently takes his hand between her own. There was a sense of fear in her grasp, and this sensation sent a wrinkle of guilt down Eliwood's spine.

She said, "My son...promise that you'll return to me safely. I'm worried your father...but if something were to happen to you...I don't know what I'd do with myself..."

Eleanora...was a good mother to Eliwood. She never refrained to give him the warmth and affection often absent among noble families, and this nourishment created a genuine affection between mother and son. Their relationship was akin to the grandest stories of motherly love...but it did nothing to calm the unease that ripples through Eleanora's heart. She truly feared how her son would react to the evils of the outside world, and worried that he too would go missing like his father.

Eliwood replied, "Don't worry, mother, I'll come back safely like you asked. In the meantime, I'll be entrusting the castle to you. Isadora will keep you safe while I'm away."

Eleanora nods, "Very well...I have your word then. Stay safe...and bring your father back to us."

"It will be done, I promise."

The mother and son embraced in one final hug and then pulled away. Eliwood looked on as her mother embarked onto Isadora's horse and then waves away as the two disappeared back into the family castle...

Eliwood sighed. This wasn't the first time he'd left his mother's side, but it still stung. It's been the same feeling ever since he was a little boy...and now the familiar sensation of loneliness creeps onto him like a case of measles...

He said, "Well, Marcus, it looks like now it's just the two of us."

Marcus replied, "Not so milord. I've arranged for my man Lowen to accompany us."

Eliwood smiles. The more friendly faces around him the better, he thought.

Marcus said, "I've already sent him to scout ahead at the village. He hopes to contact the agent provided to us by Marquess Uther, along with gaining the talents of a few armed men. Normally I wouldn't venture forth without a larger company, but I bow to your will on this matter Milord."

Eliwood said, "I'm sorry, but I'd rather not deprive our canton of any more of our gifted knights. The best men in the kingdom already vanished with my father. I don't think I'd be able to sleep at night knowing that my mother is undefended."

Marcus replied, "I understand Milord. Hmph! What's keeping Lowen?!"

* * *

 **Outside the village...**

...

"Sir? Are you all right? Sire?"

I open my eyes, and immediately get hit with a _brutal_ headache. I have no idea how I got here, but somehow I'm lying on a prairie of grass located just outside of town.

The voice belonged to an odd-looking fellow. He had curly light green hair that covered his forehead along with his eyes. The armor he wore implied that he was a knight, though to what domain was unknown. He's likely the vassal of this kingdom...whatever it was.

 _What country am I again? It's not Ostia, and I left Ryerde a few days ago..._

"Here, take this..."

To my surprise, the young man hands me a canteen full of delicious fresh water. I'm immediately made aware of the stifling dryness in my throat, and I splurge on the liquid graciously.

I said, "T-Thank you. I needed this..."

Vague memories of the previous night permeate through the primordial membrane of my conciousness. I recall intaking more than my fair share of alcohol and correctly tied my headache towards the symptoms of a hangover.

 _So here I am strung out on whiskey in the outskirts of town. What a great place for me..._

I return the canteen to the friendly young man and muster the strength to get back on my own two feet. There was a feeling of unease as I did so, but it'll dissipate with time.

I said jokingly, "Your name doesn't happen to be Carmelita does it?"

Because of the man's hair, I'm not able to see his eyebrows to read his reaction. Still, his stifled chuckle is enough to relay his enjoyment, if not pitied appreciation for my humor.

He said, "Funny, that's the name of my mother."

"What a coincidence! Mine too..."

I extend my hand and we greet each other. The fine gentleman's name was Lowen, and he's a fresh recruit from the Pheraean army. As a commoner of unremarkable blood, he grew up in the frontier of this country to eventually become the handpicked trainee of one of the most established knights of Pherae. He's about as hardworking as they come, and that's a quality I can admire.

Lowen asked, "What of you? Who do I have the pleasure of meeting today?"

I introduce myself as Kenan Vacia, a Lieutenant from the Ostian army. My backstory is that I'm a disillusioned tactician hailing from the city state of Carazan, and I escaped my home country before the start of the civil war. I roamed the continent before settling down in a sleepy village in Illia with my adopted daughter, who was taken by the henchman of a mysterious shaman...

I should note that while Marquess Uther was perfectly fine with my involvement in this mission, that perception wasn't exactly shared with the rest of the nobility. Samuel Castillo was an identity I'd have to shed if I wanted to avoid another trip to the gallows, and the name change was as vital to my survival as the new white mask hiding my true identity.

Lowen said, "Oh? So you're the Lieutenant I'm to meet up with today. Erm...why are you hungover outside of the village walls?"

Embarrassed, a flood of memories come rushing in. Everything was clear now...

I said, "Well, it's quite the tale..."

* * *

 **Last night...**

I slam my glass against the wooden counter of the bar. A few isolated droplets of liquid courage dribble within the container...

"Give me another round..."

I was at the finest alcoholic dispensary in town, a small little tavern named Erin's. It's a quaint establishment complete with an inn, karaoke bar, and kegs upon kegs of vintage whiskey...

The bartender said, "I think you've had enough, sir."

I replied, "*Hick* I don't know what you mean..."

He rolls his eyes, "Sire, you've already had about 6 shots of my highest proof. You need to go home and sober up."

The bartender was concerned about my...self destructive behavior. I was in no state of mind to be making any rational decisions, much less partake in more alcohol. Still, I wanted more to distract myself from my own self-inflicted misery; the memory of having lost my niece and my SO on the same day.

"Jokes on you, I've had seven. I stole that man's glass when neither of you were looking."

"Eh?!"

My neighbor stands up from his stool and grabs the scruff of my collar. He was a taller fellow, likely a chap who spent his days laboring away in the fields. He didn't take a liking to my earlier statement.

He said, "Whatcha say about me?!"

"I said I stole your glass under your nose. It's not really that hard...as you can see here..."

To the man's astonishment, I produce his emptied shot glass from thin air. Make that...my 8th shot...

 _!_

The man throws me into the air, and my body rag-dolls across the room like I was part of a circus act. I smash into a fragile piece of furniture, and it shatters into dozens of pieces.

The bartender exclaimed, "HEY! DON'T YOU GO DESTROYING MY BAR! GET OUT OF HERE!"

I hazily rise from the debris, having miraculously avoided serious injury. I gaze up at the scene before me and felt the irritated eyes of a dozen bystanders, along with the frustration of a clerical bartender.

He said, "FREE ROUND OF DRINKS FOR THE GENTLEMAN THAT CAN BEAT THIS SCOUNDREL UP!"

 _Oh boy, here we go..._

I tried to take a defensive stance, but the booze circulating through my veins made that difficult. I clench my fists and readied myself as an entire bar's worth of men and women close in on me.

 _I can take them on! As long as I follow my instincts..._

 _..._

 _Oh, wait that's right. I'm still horrible at fighting._

 _Welp..._

* * *

 **Present...**

Lowen said, "Well, you can stay out here while I go inside to run some errands. My mentor needs some things done before we can start our travels."

I shook my head, "There's no need for that. With the amount of alcohol flowing on that day, I'm certain nobody but the bartender remembers anything. With that being said, I still need to pay him back for the furniture I destroyed. It's my fault for being stupid."

Lowen agrees and looks out towards the open village gate. The inside of the tiny settlement was open for the world to see, and the young knight couldn't wait any longer. His teacher Marcus had entrusted him with a mission, and he'd be damned if he can't accomplish it.

He said, "Very well. Come with me..."

 **...**

I drop a handful of gold coins into the bartender's extended right hand. His eyes glitter like a child's as the shiny little metallic coins glimmer in the candlelight, and his smile was a jolly as could be.

I said, "This should be enough to pay for the damages...and a little bit more. Again...I just want to say I'm really sorry. I was being stupid, and my actions were entirely unprofessional..."

"..."

"Are you okay?"

The bartender's thoroughly entranced with the money. The look of shock on his facing was damning enough...

He muttered, "This'll pay for my niece's medicine..."

"..."

After a moment of repose, the bartender finally snaps out of his trance and pockets the gold. He then extends out his hand, which I accept.

He said, "Erm...It's all right. Most travellers usually don't come back to pay for damages after a bar fight. You have my gratitude, and your welcome here anytime young man. Just...make sure you can handle your alcohol next time."

I blush and timidly put my hand behind my head.

I said, "Yeah...I'll try to. Erm...odds are I probably won't come back here again so...I hope you have a good life I guess."

 _Boy! That was awkward!_

The bartender shakes his head and laughs.

He said, "Oh man, you remind me of myself before I got married. Anyway, I hope you pull it all together. Since you won't be part of my business anymore, I suggest that you try to stave off this habit before it spirals out of control. Okay?"

"Errr..."

"..."

"Hey do you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

I heard muffled screaming outside. It sounded like it belonged to an ill-mannered man, the type I hadn't dealt with in a long time.

The bartender said, "That doesn't sound good…. my intuition's telling me its bandits. Help me board up the front door, we can't let those bastards in here."

I replied, "I'm afraid I must decline. You see, I have a friend waiting for me outside. We'll show these villains what happens when you harass the innocent."

"Er...What do you mean?"

I smile and make my way to the front entrance of the tavern. There was a small chess set on a nearby table, and I knock over the white king.

I said, "That's because...I'm not just some random drunk. My name is Lieutenant Vacia...and tell this to everyone. Anything or anyone that gets in my way...will crumble under my boots..."

 **...**

"My name is Groznyi! This village is now under my control! Bring me all yer gold...every last speck!"

I bite my lip as I observe the scene before me. I'm at the village square, but there was nothing square about this. A dozen intimidating bandits were ransacking the village of all valuables, with the screams of pleading civilians crowding the air. They trashed homes, looted stores, and beat anybody that dared stand in their way. I stood there frozen with a single blade in my metal hand...

This was beyond me. I can't possibly hope to save this village on my own. There was so many of them...

 _I need to get out of here. There's nothing to gain by foolishly throwing away my life here. I need to retreat so Lowen and I can fight another day..._

"Help! Help me, please!"

The voice came from a nearby village girl, whose green hair was firmly under the grasp of a much larger man.

The bandit said, "Shut up before I knock you out! Pretty girls like you sell well in the markets..."

 _Slavery..._

The reminder of that terrible institution brings up old memories of my own enslavement. I remember the countless hours laboring away and the insufferable beatings at the hands of the overseers. The never-ending, bitter taste of salt was still something I haven't shaken. That wasn't something I'd ever wish on anybody...and in a rare break of character, my emotions trump my rationality.

I exclaimed, "Hey you! You punk! Let go of her!"

Enraged, I kick the man square in the stomach. I knock the wind out of him, and he loses grasp of the young lady for just enough time for her to escape. She wriggles out of the large man's captivity and quickly runs into what I presumed to be her house.

 _Not even a thank you...that stings a little._

"You masked bastard! Get over here!"

The bandit recovered from my kick and sternly sized me up with his axe. The axe looks bigger than me...

 _Welp._

Regardless, I draw my dagger and ready myself for a fight. It's been awhile since I've last used this thing...but there's a first time for ever-

Woosh! Biff!

An arrow quickly skims the air and implants itself behind the bandit's large skull. He collapses onto the floor like a rag doll, and for the moment my grand return to combat hits a roadblock. Not that I'm complaining.

I look over where the arrow came from and see the familiar face of the woman I had just rescued. Her arm was still tucked to where she had released the arrow, and I can tell she's relieved from having made her shot. Oddly enough, she spoke with an accent a little similar to mine.

She said, "Thank you, mister! My name's Rebecca...are you here to help save my village?"

"Y-Yeah...thanks for saving me. The name's Kenan."

She replied, "Nice to meet you! Now, I'd love to offer you inside to partake in some tea...but I'm afraid those men took all my tea leaves. It's a shame, really."

 _Hah...this girl has a sense of humor. Nice._

"Looks like you must flatter me later than. Lock yourself in your home and let me work. I'd like to avoid any non-combatant casualties if possible."

Confused, Rebecca leans over on the front porch of her home. I realize she had filled her quiver with dozens of arrows, and that her hands contained gloves that weren't there before. It was never her intention to just sit back and watch.

She said, "Oh? You fancy me as a non-combatant? I'm about as good of an archer as I am a cook. You must accept me into your ranks, at least for the time being. I won't just sit by and watch these villains burn my home to the ground."

I sighed, "Very well...just don't get in my way..."

* * *

After a series of unfortunate events, Rebecca and I find ourselves riding on the back of Lowen's over-cumbered horse. We are riding far away from the burning village, with the smoke polluting the clear sky. My leg was bandaged from having suffered a wound, but sitting firmly between the rider and the archer, I feel fortunate for having not come out worse.

 _By Elimine...that was rough. We barely escaped with our lives..._

After I met up with Rebecca, she and I quickly found ourselves surrounded by vengeful bandits. We tried to put up a fight, but their numbers were simply too much to overcome. Just as it looked like we would find our end...a savior in shining armor came to our rescue.

 _Lowen said, "Come on we're out of here! I'm sure Lord Eliwood will do something about this!"_

Despite Lowen's good intentions, I couldn't help but feel frustrated by how that whole thing played out. I've always relied on the strength of others to propel me forward because in terms of fighting ability I'm useless. I just…want to have the ability to save people on my own. Just like I used to in the not-to-distant past.

My magic ability is still marginal at best. The problem isn't that my spells don't have any power behind them, it's just that my mana pool is so _small_. It's like Azazel only left me half of his gifts when I defeated him, so even though I can often nuke foes on a whim, I can only do it one or two times a day. This makes me a powerful, if undependable mage.

 _If only there was some way to give me more sustain during a battle. It's a pity really, my workshop's all the way in Illia. Otherwise I would have made a device to help me out..._

 _Granted, it's not like I expected to get kicked out the way I did. Hindsight is 20/20..._

Unfortunately, I already reached my mana limit during the scrimmage earlier. From here onward, I must rely entirely on the capabilities of my allies. Lest I risk giving myself another concussion, or worse...

 _Remember why you're doing this. For Lani...so don't put yourself under any unnecessary danger. You can't rescue her if you're dead._

"Oh thank goodness, we're here."

I snap out of my train of thought and gander over at the two individuals who were standing idly on the plain. I recognized one man as the lordling Eliwood, with the other likely being his bodyguard.

Eliwood hadn't changed his outfit one bit since I first saw him. He still wore the same worn blue boots he treaded the earth with, and his red cape carries with it similar noble valor. If I didn't know any better, I would've sworn he'd been on the road forever...

Lowen's over-cumbered horse plows along, and we finally disembark near my presumptive boss-man. Eliwood's bodyguard (of whom I soon learned is named Marcus) briefs his subordinate on what we had just done.

Marcus said, "Lowen! You look terrible! And those two...why is that man's cloak covered in blood?"

He points his leathered hand towards me, and to my astonishment I notice a big, fat red blog of red on my white tunic. I did not understand how it got there, though it most certainly wasn't mine.

"Eh?"

Thump!

 _!_

I'm rendered speechless as Rebecca tilts over and collapses onto the ground. Peering over her torn leather armor, a large red gash is visible just above her right shoulder. To make matters worse, her right subclavian artery was clipped…explaining the chronic blood loss staining my dress.

I exclaimed, "By the Creator! Lowen, help me stop the bleeding! If we don't stop it soon, she'll bleed out!"

Adrenaline pumps through my veins, and I leap off Lowen's steed. I tear away some cloth from the scarf I wore around my neck and did my best to stem the bleeding while Lowen hastily acquired some vulneraries.

Eliwood exclaimed, "Marcus! Return to the castle and solicit our strongest elixirs!"

Marcus protested, "But sire, those vials are very expensive. Surely we should save those for an emergency."

He calmly replied, "This _is_ an emergency. Go quickly, we don't have a moment to spare."

"Very well..."

Marcus bids his leave, and meanwhile I'm still trying to close up Rebecca's wound. I can tell from her wincing that she was in horrible pain, but somehow she carried the strength not to scream.

I said, "Rebecca, say something!"

She mutters something nearly intelligible, but I still manage to pick out two important words.

"I-It...hurts..."

Lowen quickly removes the vulnerary binding from the medication and pours some liquid onto the open wound. His efforts had a marginal effect on her pain, but she continued to bleed out nonetheless.

I said, " _Dios mio..._ I need more vulneraries...and cloth!"

I draw my knife to cut away more of my tunic...but I'm overwhelmed with a numbing sensation to my metallic hand. The device refused to move inside its covering white glove...

 _Huh...what's going on? Why is this happening?_

Then, I remember my metallic hand derives energy from the mana flowing through my blood, a precious resource I had already foolishly wasted. With no energy, it reduces my hand to any other static object...

My heart fills with dread...but I knew there was another way. I turn to address Lowen...

"Lowen, I want you to-"

"There's no need."

My eyes widen with surprise as Eliwood hands me about a foot of red cloth. Its texture was absorbant and smooth as a material could be...something becoming of nobility. My eyes immediately wander over towards the hole inhabited within the lord's cape.

I said, "Eliwood...this is from..."

He replied, "No need to worry about that. The job of a noble is to look after his subject. It is my intention to do just that."

 _Nobility..._

 _All I've ever seen them do was lazily sit up in their fancy castles while the common man toiled away for his benefit. I've never seen them do anything remotely close to helping their people...yet here I see Eliwood doing just that. Mending that cape won't be cheap either..._

 _Maybe...maybe he's different..._

"Kenan! We're losing her!"

I snap out of it and quickly douse the young girl's wound with my makeshift bandage. To my relief, the material does a fantastic job in soaking up her blood, and I'm able to firmly wrap it around her shoulder. At this point she's still bleeding, but now she'll survive long enough for the pending elixir.

I bite my lip as I observe Rebecca's gray body. She had lost _a lot_ of blood, more than enough to necessitate a blood transfusion. Unfortunately, elixirs don't do much in terms of blood replenishment, so somebody in our small platoon or in the village will have to volunteer as a host in order for her to survive...

I breathe an anxiety-filled sigh and instinctively ruffle my curly white hair. I feel...guilty. Had either Lowen, or myself ended up this way, this would be something that I'd find much easier to stomach. Instead, my ineptitude in both strength and tactics has led to a civilian receiving a serious injury, and the fault was mine alone to bear.

Still, now is not the time to get strung up on the past. Moving forward, I'll do my best to ensure Rebecca has a good road to recovery, but for now I need to worry about the problem at hand. Those bandits were still having their way with the villagers after all, and it is our job to stop them.

Eliwood asked, "So...Lieutenant Vacia I take it? What are we to do about those bandits looming nearby? I presume they're responsible for Rebecca's wound?"

 _Bandits? They followed us?_

I look over my shoulder and spied a single bandit lurking underneath a cliff. He appeared to be looking for us, though his sub-par vision wasn't helping him much there.

I said, "We can do one of two things. We can either fight them or flee. It's your choice... _milord_."

It truly...truly hurt to say that.

 _Perceived disrespect won't help you now, Samuel. Just keep it all in. I won't let my pride get in my way!_

Eliwood replied, "It was never my attention to leave my people to fend for themselves. We will engage them once Marcus returns. Can you help me plan out until then?"

I agree and delegate Lowen to look over our injured archer. We spend the next several minutes lost in thought. Looking over the terrain, I point out likely hostile personnel placements...

* * *

"Lord Eliwood, I have returned!"

Marcus gallops over to our side and drops a small blue vial onto my gloved metallic hand. I acted quickly to administer it to Rebecca, who by this point was rendered unconscious.

Lowen said, "Is she going to be alright, Lieutenant? I feel partly responsible for this..."

I replied, "You're not the only one who feels guilty, sir knight. Had I noticed earlier, she likely wouldn't have lost so much blood. I fear she may need a blood transfusion."

Marcus inquired, "A blood transfusion? What type of treatment is that?"

It's unsurprising that Marcus is ignorant to this piece of futuristic treatment. Few people here know of it, save for a few pioneers in the medical field. Of course, I'm not included in this bunch of gifted individuals, but a basic knowledge of the modern era can go a long way.

I replied, "Rebecca needs to get her blood replaced through a relatively simple procedure...but we can only do it with someone whose compatible. I'm blood type AB so I doubt I can do it myself...you guys on the other hand might be a different story, however."

Eliwood said, "If you need me then so be it. I won't shy away from whatever it takes to save her."

Lowen and Marcus agree to that as well. For a moment, I'm completely overcome with a sense of appreciation for these folks. They'd only known the common village girl for a brief period, yet they're willing to help her. It's something I hadn't seen since Lyn volunteering to do the same for me last year...

 _Eliwood's a noble but..._

 _He's different. His knights are taking after him, too._

I said, "You...you people are a different breed of humanity..."

I look over Rebecca's unconscious body and then back over to the bandit lingering nearby. All of this talk will be for nothing if we don't take care of our business first, and that includes exterminating the bugs on our doorstep.

I said, "Okay...I must test you three to check if any of you guys are compatible...but we still need to deal with these bandits first. Rebecca put her life on the line to protect her home, and I think it's best we didn't let her sacrifice go in vain."

Eliwood nodded, "You took the words right out of my mouth..."

 **...**

The battle went about as well as it could've been. Although the enemy greatly outnumbered us, the quality of our troops managed to close the gap in terms of firepower. Marcus alone could hold his own against multiple bandits, and the rest of us got by in a supporting role...

I had a feeling these villagers wouldn't just sit by and let their homes get raided...and I was right. A couple of men joined us in our cause, one of which I'm already well acquainted with. Bartre the Brave and Dorcas the axeman are their names...

Eventually, I sprain my ankle while carrying Rebecca on my back. Eliwood rushes me away into a house while the others dealt with the remaining enemies and asked the homeowner to help nurse my wound, who graciously accepted the request.

The homeowner is a young-looking fellow around my age, with a plain-looking face and shaggy brown hair. His attitude was fairly hospitable, though he's woefully unprepared to take on the role of a healer.

I asked, "You don't have a vulnerary do you? Or even just a bag of ice?"

The homeowner shook his head, "I'm afraid not, though I think I have some ice in my icebox. Will that suffice?"

"Yes it will. Thank you..."

He fetches the ice and I press the cold substance against my swollen ankle. My mind is occupied with the bleak state of my body right now...and I can't help but think I might not be as durable as I used to be.

 _My ankle's always been giving me problems...but will it stop here? Niime presumably did a good job patching me up...but how far can I push myself without injury?_

 _There's not much I can do about that now. All I can do is pray that this problem is solely isolated on my ankle and adjust my fighting style accordingly._

Speaking of fighting, I hadn't been able to do much of that since we left the village. My robot hand still doesn't have an adequate mana supply to work with, and I doubt it will until tomorrow morning. Because of this, my continued presence had become more of a liability than an asset on the battlefield, so I helped where I could by ensuring Rebecca's safety. Everything was going well until I traversed over some uneven ground...

 _That fall didn't feel good at all. If Lowen wasn't there to pick me up, then I would've been in all sorts of trouble. Ugh...bless his heart. Him and Eliwood..._

My mind shifts over to that red-haired lord. Last time I checked, they were still making their way to Rebecca's hometown...

 _Hmm...I wonder how they're doing right now. I hope they're okay..._

* * *

 **Nearby...**

"Ugh...I thought my luck...was finally turning around..."

Groznyi falls to the ground with a thousand precise cuts spread across his body. Eliwood wiped the blood from his thin rapier with a handkerchief and sheathed the weapon.

Eliwood and company had just wiped out the bandits threatening Rebecca's home village. Small pools of blood stained the dirt ground underlying the settlement, though most of the battle had occurred outside the village walls. Eliwood was just glad the fighting was over...the whole afternoon was bloody as it was ruthless.

He said, "Well that's that. Marcus, how are the villagers?"

Marcus lingers close by while Lowen scouted the countryside for any remnants of the enemy. Today was a busy day for him, both in terms of combat and rescue duty.

He replied, "I'm glad to say they're all safe thanks to our efforts. The magistrate would like to talk to you however, he mentioned something about a missing daughter."

Eliwood said, "Missing daughter? Did some of those men escape with a few of our citizens? That just cannot do."

Marcus shakes his head, "That seems unlikely. I'm certain we dealt with all of them, and Lowen's just searching around as a precaution. It's possible that he's referring to Rebecca...and if that's the case then we need to break the news to him..."

Eliwood's heart sinks. He felt guilty for allowing a citizen of his kingdom fall victim to the antics of these barbarians...and he didn't know what to say to the magistrate. What could he say?

 _I'm sorry. Your daughter almost died because I can't properly secure my own domain against bandits..._

Eliwood sighs. He'd have to bear with whatever ear-full this magistrate will deliver on his own. Any anger he'll have will be wholly justified, more so since his daughter is lying comatose in a stranger's house...

He said, "Very well Marcus, let us go grant him our audience. Keep your horse ready, we'll likely have to pay the Lieutenant a visit soon..."

* * *

 **Later...**

Everyone takes in a sigh of relief. Rebecca had awoken at last.

"Huh? Where am I?"

She's surrounded on her bedside by myself, Eliwood, her father, and Lowen. Her father has tears in his eyes as he observed the color return to his daughter's face, and he raised his hands in the air to sing praises to Saint Elimine.

He exclaimed, "Oh, thank the almighty saint! My daughter is alive!"

The magistrate holds Rebecca's hand tight, and she's left scrambling to piece together what had just happened. Meanwhile, I'm trying to clean up the small blots of blood sticking to my clothes...

 _That...was rough..._

The transfusion was harder than I'd initially expected. Between gathering the supplies, identifying the donor, and implementing the procedure itself...it was obvious I had bitten off more than I could chew. There were many moments throughout the evening where I was _very_ close to botching the whole thing, and I feared Rebecca wouldn't live past sundown...

But cooler heads prevailed. I used logic and a few passages from a medical journal I had read in my old life to steer my hand in the right direction, though I doubted I could ever do the same thing again. I wouldn't want to.

The magistrate notices me putting away my medical supplies and beckons me to stop. He extends his hand in gratitude for what I had just done.

He said, "Sir, you have my utmost appreciation. You don't know how much this means to me."

I blush and shrugged my shoulders, "E-Erm...don't worry about it. You should really thank Lowen over there. He's the one the made your daughter's survival possible."

Lowen raises his head and reveals a large red bandage wrapped around his left arm. The poor man looked faint from all the blood I drew from him earlier...

I said, "Eh...maybe on second thought you can just thank me. We should let Lowen rest for a bit..."

 **...**

After some time, Rebecca and Lowen both recovered, with the former having the strength to return home. Now our mission here was done, and it was time to start the journey Eliwood had set out to do.

The five of us pack up our things and gather outside the friendly stranger's home. The sun was comfortably cradled over the grass-coated hills, and our shadows were thick like butter. My bones aches with the toiling from today's battle, but my peers shared none of my fatigue...

Eliwood said, "The intel that magistrate provided for us will prove invaluable. We'll be heading northeast..."

The magistrate had relayed to us the plight of his brother, a chap living in the canton of Laus. Supposedly, the territory's leading monarch is preparing the land for a war...

 _The magistrate said, "Perhaps this is related to your father's disappearance. If you're looking for leads, this may be the place to start."_

Despite the logic behind their thinking, it still left a bitter taste in my mouth. Leading a high-priority target like a marquess-to-be into a soon-to-be war zone doesn't sound good no matter how you read it. Still, it's not like I'm going to convince this guy to stay away. Love in any form is more potent than any pint of brandy.

I said, "As you wish. I went ahead and did you the favor of checking over our provisions. We're low on medicine, so we should try to buy some when we get the chance. This is especially important since Dorcas and Bartre-

 _!_

I stop mid-sentence and peer over towards the silhouette underneath the setting sun.

"Hey...isn't that Rebecca?"

She raises her arms in the air and calls for our attention like we were on the verge of boarding a train. She had her bow bound around her chest, along with a pair of traveling boots on her feet.

She exclaimed, "Hey! Wait up! Wait for me!"

She rushes over to our side and collapses onto her knees gasping for air. Lowen quickly offered the lass a drink of water from his canteen, which she accepts.

She said, "I needed that, I ran all the way from the village to catch up to you guys. Say, your that knight that saved my life. Lowen...was it?"

Lowen nodded, "Indeed. How can I be of service?"

She replied, "I never had the chance to thank you personally, sir knight. You have my gratitude. But...admittingly that's not the only reason I've come here. Lord Eliwood, I'd like to make you a request."

Eliwood said, "You have my attention."

Rebecca cleared her throat, "I've noticed that your band of mercenaries lacks an archer. Allow me to join your quest in finding your father. It's the least I can do for your men saving my life."

For a moment, my forehead wrinkles slightly in deliberation. Having an archer like Rebecca undeniably has its benefits...but it also had its drawbacks.

Rebecca stands at a young age of 15. While this technically made her an adult in the eyes of the law, it'll still make her the youngest person I've ever had to fight with [Serra was 16]. Youthful thinkers like her are bound to breed reckless actions, and I'm awfully reluctant in allowing her to tag along. Especially with what had happened earlier today.

As Eliwood's tactician, it's my duty to screen out potential recruits. God forbid we ever harbor liabilities or even any traitors in our ranks.

 _I'll wait for Eliwood to ask for my counsel. He's a smart guy, he won't just accept a recruit on impuls-_

"Sure. I hope you've already said your goodbyes, we're leaving immediately."

My eyes shoot open with shock.

 _What. The. Fuck._

Rebecca gleefully jumps in the air, and the entire group joins her in celebration. Dorcas and Bartre silently raise their mighty axes, and Lowen smiles from atop his horse. Marcus commends Eliwood on our supposed good fortune, though I'm left alone lost in thought away from the others.

 _I...I just got snubbed._

I anxiously wipe a bead of sweat from my brow.

 _Bah...don't count on a royal to make a good decision. The situation's so lively that I doubt I can change their minds now. Oh Samuel, what are you going to do? You got one vulnerable farm girl to look over now for the foreseeable future. This isn't going to bode well..._

I sigh, and reach for a flask of whiskey I had tucked away in my cloak. I remove the lid and jiggle the liquid a little. There's only one thing I can do now...

 _Meh...this is a problem for future me to figure out._

I chugged the entire thing in one go.


	52. Budding Friendships

**Chapter 47: Budding Friendships**

 **By SodiumChlouride12, derived from Fire Emblem, owned by Nintendo**

 **A/N: By the time y'all get this, I should be in a car drudging on a road somewhere in the Montana en route to Yellowstone. I won't be writing for a week, but I already have a chapter lined up that only needs editing. If I can edit it before next Friday then my posting schedule will continue unchanged, otherwise I'll just wait to post it till until I get back home to Austin on Saturday. It's a marginal difference of a single day, but now y'all know now.**

 **If I can, I'll be writing the proto-sequel chapter on my flight and the car ride. If I go ham and the word count exceeds 3k, I'll just make it its own standalone chapter. Otherwise, I'll just tack it on with that week's chapter like I did with my other [now-defunct] series.**

 **While on that subject, after the third chapter I realized I did not have the energy nor the motivation to keep on going. I don't think I'll ever go back to writing something for Three Houses again, not until I finish the SOMB project in a couple of years anyway. Had I continued on with that story this series would've taken forever to finish.**

 **If anyone wants the prompt for that I can go ahead and give it to you. I made a storyline beforehand...**

 **Yet another amazing review. Whoever you are, you're simply amazing. This goes towards everyone that took the time out of their day to provide me with some well appreciated feedback. So, to the 10-14 people that did that...thank you!**

 **N: Memory can often be a feeble thing. It can be corrupted, modified, or at times completely forgotten. Thus is the plight of a drunken man, a burden shared amongst many of that similar lifestyle...**

* * *

"..."

"Ugh..."

Waking up, my eyes wander through the convoluted jungle that inhabited my tent home. A brown liquid stains its canvas floor, and the morning sun shines through my ceiling like metaphysical pins of light. My few belongings were strung out across the floor like a lazy attempt at jigsaw, and my worn-down boots stood idly by the front door.

Amiss my dirty surroundings and hazy perception, my memory found itself lacking...

 _I don't remember what happened yesterday..._

My first hint came in the form of the half-emptied flask resting in my left hand. Looking at it sends ripples of stimuli through my head, ultimately cultivating in a massive headache I'd been subconsciously ignoring this whole time.

 _Ouch!_

I've been drinking...that much is clear. For how long, I don't know. However, judging from the bitter taste of dryness in my mouth, I can only assume that it was for a long time. Likely in celebration of some unknown event.

My feet wake up with miniature pins of pain as I struggle to get out of bed. The weeks' worth of walking had created dense calluses underneath my soles, but even this hardened skin could do little to protect the gradual discomfort to my toes. Still, I figure there's little to gain by staying here to sulk, so I open the tent flap to begin my day...

 _!_

 _What the…_

I gasp when I observe the scene before me. We were deep in a forest, far away from the mountains I'd grown accustomed. But the unfamiliar terrain was only the beginning. Light creeps through the light forested canopy above us, revealing a stocky blue lordling, a sturdier brown knight, and two people I had hoped I wouldn't reunite with so soon.

Matthew and Serra were calmly engaging in small talk by a nearby stream. Well, _calmly_ might be an overstatement. What I saw was nothing more than pure, untempered misery.

Serra said, "Matthew my dear, as your superior, I order you to fetch me some freshwater."

Unamused, he replied, "I'm not your vassal. The water's right there, get it yourself."

The two eventually befall into a shouting contest over who's superior to who. The rest of the army does their best to avoid landing themselves in the crossfire, with Marcus eyeing the pair like they'd just intruded on an Indian burial ground.

 _How annoying..._

"Hey Lieutenant! Good morning!"

Rebecca appears with a jolly demeanor reminiscent of a Christmas elf. Her hair is neatly held back in a bun, all while being firmly within the confines of a hairnet. Her whole get up indicates that she had just come out of the kitchen...

 _Oh God, that thought sounds sexist as hell._

I said, "Eh...hey Rebecca. Why do you look like that?"

Confused, she rests her hands on her hips. Her hands were white and slightly wrinked, likely from excess exposure to water.

She said, "Uh...what do you mean? You put me and Lowen on mess duty since we both have the most cooking experience. Don't you remember?"

I...didn't. Whether it be from past trauma or the hangover, I just couldn't make the correct neural connections in my brain. I recall speaking to those two about something, though I'm unsure of what.

 _Well Rebecca, you're going to have to help with memory duty._

I said, "I'm afraid my mind is failing me right now. Can you give my mind a boost over breakfast?"

Always happy to help, she said, "Sure! We just finished breakfast recently, too. I hope you enjoy catching up over chicken broth!"

My stomach makes a weird sound and I give an awkward smile. I simply _adored_ chicken broth, and the mere thought of it was enough to send my appetite to a frenzy...

I said, "Honestly, with the state I'm in right now, I think I'd like to catch up over anything..."

* * *

 **Yesterday...**

We're now near a village in a mountainous canton named Santaruz. The city-state is a small territory nestled directly between the road connecting Laus and Pherae, and we had stopped here on Eliwood's request. Apparently, our young lordling has quite the relationship with the marquess here, and he'd like to flex that relationship towards our benefit. We'd set up camp here in anticipation for a letter that would allow us to be received formally by the canton...

Eliwood said, "This was a great place to set up camp, Marcus. We're close enough to enjoy the amenities of the village, but far away enough as to not arouse suspicion."

Marcus agrees and observes the village far away. It's a rustic little settlement with few of life's luxuries, but it still had everything needed to sustain it. Food, medicine, it was all there. Several of their own troops even went there to engage in some recreational time, though most of them have returned by now.

Most of them...

Eliwood asked, "Say Marcus, have you seen our tactician?"

"He's right here."

Lowen materializes from behind both of their cones of vision with me sound asleep on his saddle. My clothes were dirty, and my rag doll-like body swayed with every minor motion from the horse. It's a wonder my mask didn't fall off my face, with nothing more than the binding magic protecting my identity.

Eliwood said, "Nice to see you well, Lowen. Erm, may I ask why the tactician is unconscious?"

"Take a guess."

Marcus didn't hesitate to make his thoughts known. He'd grown tired with my consistent commitment to goonery and seeing me in the state I was struck a nerve.

He said, "You found him blackout drunk by the side of the road again?"

"You'd be right."

Marcus sighed, "Lord Eliwood, I implore you to relieve this tactician of his duties _immediately_. His behavior is most inappropriate for someone of his rank, especially someone that is associated with you. Your father would never surround himself with a man like this..."

Eliwood considers the proposition for a minute, but ultimately disagrees.

He said, "I'm sorry, Marcus. I must refer to his letter of recommendation, if he's anything like it said he is then we must keep this man in our ranks. He has his faults...but I'm sure we can speak to him about it. He's professional enough when he has to be."

Marcus gazes into the eyes of his superior. They held the same fire and determination as his father, and although Eliwood was young, he truly seemed to believe in the ability of his new tactician. There was no convincing a man like this of the contrary, to do so would be an utter waste of time.

Marcus said, "Hmph, fair point. Still...that doesn't mean we can just let him sleep."

He grabs me by the scruff of my collar and pulls me from Lowen's steed. Shaking me with all his might, he raised his voice to match the ferocity of his force.

He ordered, "Hey, you! Wake up!"

 _!_

"Snork?"

I open my eyes and the shaking stops. The immediate gaze of Marcus sends an unpleasant feeling down my spine, and I get the sense that I'm under some sort of trouble.

I squeaked, "Hello..."

Marcus growled, "Mr. Vacia, do you have any idea what you have been doing?"

Remembering the bar hopping I did earlier, I answered truthfully, "I had a little bit to drink...so what?"

He said, "So what? What your doing is entirely unprofessional and harmful towards our mission. Not only am I disgusted by your actions, but I am disappointed as well."

 _What are you, my father?_

"If you want continued employment with the House of Pherae, then I recommend that you restrict your alcoholism to times more reasonable for us. This means you aren't allowed to drink until at night when we've already set up camp, and should we get ambushed you have the expectation to sober up in time for us to defend ourselves."

 _Great, now he's giving me rules. I don't need a babysitter._

I said, "*hic* I'm not an alcoholic. I can handle a little bit a booze during the daytime."

Eliwood shakes his head disapprovingly, "Absolutely not. We are confiscating your flask until nightfall, while also limiting your intake. I respect you for your rank Lieutenant, but we run things a little bit differently in Lycia."

I'm confused that remark. Was that a hint of racism in his voice, or some other suggestive quip? I didn't know for sure, but if it was the former, then Eliwood should really watch his mouth.

I said, "Eliwood, what...did you mean by that?"

Eliwood's frowns and scratched the back of his head. Thinking back on his words, he realized he may have made a misstep.

He said, "I mean no disrespect, Lieutenant. I'm clueless towards the Carazanite army's attitude towards drinking on duty, so that's why I said what I said. Still, we can't tolerate this behavior here."

 _I suppose that's reasonable enough. Admittingly, I haven't been the model soldier._

I sighed, "Well, it's really that not much different from the Lycian armies. If you're caught drinking while on duty, you're hung. My apologies Lord Eliwood, I'll accept these restrictions and will spend my duty going forward sober."

 _But mind you, the minute the sun sets I'll be swimming in liquid courage. There's no rule against that._

Eliwood nodded, "Excellent, I'm glad you'll listen to reason. Hopefully, my friend Marquess Santaruz will too."

"Marquess Santaruz?"

Marcus nodded, "Yes, he's the royal in charge of the territory of Santaruz. He's a kind old man who is a good friend of Lord Elbert, and Eliwood's shared many fond memories with him in his younger years."

 _Hmm, I'm impressed. Looks like Eliwood's using his connection for our benefit._

I said, "So, the expectation is that he'll provide us with some support for our journey. Are we talking supplies and the such?"

Eliwood said, "Yeah, though I wouldn't doubt it if he gave us some troops. Santaruz is technically Pharae's ally, so he has a treaty obligation."

 _Treaty obligation? Usually nation-states only ally with each other when they're nervous about an aggressive neighbor. I wonder who that neighbor could be..._

 _Granted, now's not the time to think about the geopolitical situation here. What's important is establishing contact with this marquess..._

I said, "Have we sent him a letter requesting his audience? If memory serves, I think I recall seeing a guard post from the village."

I vaguely remember my drunk-self stumbling through town and spying a fortress-like tower far away. It was in the same style as the one I saw in Pherae, and for a while I thought we hadn't embarked on our journey yet...

Luckily, now I've sobered up to realize that's not the case.

Marcus said, "I've penned a letter informing him of our presence. I sent it in the morning, so I'm sure we're due for a message soon."

Curious, I asked, "Oh really? At approximately what time would you say you sent it?"

Marcus said, "I'm not sure...I think I did it right around breakfast."

 _Breakfast...we had that at around 8 o'clock. What time is it now?_

I take out my watch and read the time. As expected, the minute hand hadn't missed a second, and it read 1:00 pm.

 _This is odd. The marquess should have answered back by now. What's keeping him?_

Something doesn't feel right. It's customary in Lycia for correspondents to respond within a reasonable amount of time, yet it's been five whole hours.

I said, "Get everybody together. I can't shake this dreadful feeling in my gut"

Marcus asked, "Dreadful feeling? What for? We're in friendly territory."

I sigh and observe the idle mountains far away. They seemed peaceful from this vantage point, though I had a sense something more sinister lurked within those rocky crevices.

I said, "Just do it. I might be hungover, but my gut hasn't me failed me yet..."

* * *

 **Castle Santaruz...**

Somewhere deep in the heart of his country, Marquess Santaruz looks on with horror as a caped figure relays him the information he'd been dreading…

"What? Eliwood is here?"

Hearing the old man's panicked whimpers, he nods. However, despite his humanlike appearance, he is far from human. In fact, he's someone of dubious character and mysterious regard. He does not act for himself, but instead his labor is all in the name of a masterful puppeteer hiding in the shadows.

He said, "Yes. He has set camp up on a hill south of here. He seeks permission to enter Santaruz. He seeks an audience with you."

The marquess shakes his head in disbelief. This was the worst possible thing that could've happened to him. If Eliwood were to find out what's going on, all that he'd been working towards would be for naught, and Lord Elbert's mission...

Marquess Santaruz said, "Could it be… Do you think Eliwood's come to ask of his father? If that's the case… I… I know not what to tell him."

The messenger replied, "Then act clueless and let him go on his way."

But the marquess can't do that. His moral compass was not as flawed as his companion, and it told him he could not lie to Eliwood. Not as an old friend of his father, or the perceived uncle of his son.

Ultimately, the messenger convinces the marquess to allow him to "subtly" deal with the issue in a "non-lethal" way. Everything would continue going according the plan, and Eliwood would end his brief stint with adventure.

Then again, perhaps the marquess had underestimated the determination of Eliwood's squad. Almost like how he underestimated the ferocity of his messenger's organization...

The Black Fang...

* * *

 **Later...**

"Hey there, Lieutenant. What are you doing here?"

"Hm?"

I'm at the camp mess hall oiling the joints of my hand when Rebecca comes in. I'd been spending the past hour in anxious anticipation for the inevitable battle, but so far my concerns appear to be unfounded…

Rebecca had finished her lunch duty with Lowen, and now possessed some free time. I found it unusual in why she decided to spend that time with me instead of the knight she admires…but I suppose everybody gets a little curious...

She said, "That weird liquid you have in that can, I've seen nothing like it. Is it a magical potion?"

I look at the oil can [which says _oil_ on the front cover] and then back at Rebecca. The disbelief on my face made my companion feel like she was being made fun of, and I chuckled.

I said, "Honest question, can you read?"

She asserted, "Y-Yeah! I'm no idiot! I-uh _knew_ all along that you're holding a can of oil!"

"Then why did you ask?"

"..."

Flustered, Rebecca glances away and lightly presses her head on a tree. I found this humorous and couldn't resist laughing at this childish gesture.

"Hahahaha! It's been a while since a kid's make me laugh..."

Rebecca pouts. Being called a child is apparently a really easy way to get on her nerves.

She exclaimed, "What? I'm no child! I-I'm 15, technically an adult! You can't be much older than me!"

I replied, "I'm 20. In those extra five years of life, I've fought in a civil war, been enslaved, and spent a month in jail. We may technically both be adults in the eyes of the law, but in mine you're still a frail farm girl..."

I instantly regret having a loose tongue.

 _Oh boy, Samuel. You've said too much._

What had started out as a joke ended up being an uncontrollable stream of conciousness. Maybe it was the hangover working through the mental barriers in my brain, or the guilt I still felt for having her injured on my watch yesterday, but I just could not keep it together...

Rebecca opens her eyes wide in disbelief. I blink, and I'm immediately reminded of a face I hadn't seen since my college years. This face was of a 15-year-old girl who was very similar to Rebecca in both stature and personality, and I recall mentoring her for a STEM after-school club on my free time. The resemblance is uncanny...and I feel an urge to put this girl under my wing...

What did I have to gain by saying this? These experiences were mine alone to bear...

Rebecca said, "Lieutenant...I don't know what to say."

 _Of course she doesn't...she's only 15..._

I replied, "Erm...don't worry about it. I can't believe I said that out loud, anyway I...I'm sorry about what happened earlier. With your injury."

I close my eyes and think about the sheer volume of blood involved then. I was scared out of my mind for Rebecca's safety, and that sentiment soon extended towards Lowen after I made my transfusion attempt. Again, I just can't stress _how much blood trickled through my hands;_ the memory still haunts me...even now. I truly thought I would lose both...though more so for Rebecca.

Rebecca said, "Oh, I see. Is...is it bothering you a lot?"

Rebecca's concern for me was flattering, though it's important to note its platonic nature. It's at occasions like these that I'm reminded of the innate, rural hospitality she expressed towards her friends...and I'm put at ease.

She said, "Kenan, I didn't know you felt this way. Look, it's my fault okay? I was the one that hid the injury, not you. If anything, you should be mad at me not sorrowful."

"But why?"

Puzzled, she tilts her head, "Why what?"

"Why would you hide something so grievous from us?"

Rebecca pauses to consider my question, "Well...it's just the adrenaline you know? It numbed the pain, and I just couldn't feel it hahahaha..."

That laugh was obviously forced. She's hiding something from me, though I know I won't be able to get it out of her now. I will not feel all right with Rebecca until I find out why she just lied to my face...but I need more time.

I said, "The blow you got to your shoulder was pretty bad. If it ever bothers you again, tell me so I can give you a painkiller. If it persists, I'll arrange a visit with a cleric next time we visit a major city."

Rebecca nods approvingly, and any ice forming between us evaporated. Fortunately for me, she accepted my offer...

She said, "Sure Lieutenant, you can count on me! I think I'll take you up on the painkiller too, my shoulder has been affecting my aim a bit. What good is a soldier if she's not useful right?"

I replied, "A soldier's usefulness isn't entirely dependent on their fighting ability. I mean just look at me. The only reason I'm here is so they can prick my brain. You're useful with your bow, but I noticed you're rather keen with your senses too. Serving as a scout would help us a ton."

Rebecca said, "Interesting observation, Lieutenant. I hope you...don't do that though. I like my post with Lowen, and I feel my potential can be greater realized with him."

Her remark makes me smile. Rebecca truly looks like a gushy teenaged girl when she talks about him. If I didn't know any better, I'd assume she had a burgeoning crush on him.

 _Young love...man I feel old._

"Oh, look at the time! I need to do some housekeeping work with my bow, but it was nice talking to you! I hope we can catch up again soon!"

I didn't realize it, but we had been speaking for about half an hour. I'd kept Rebecca here for long enough, so thus we bid our farewells.

I replied, "Yeah, same here!"

She playfully waves me goodbye and disappears somewhere over the camp. Now inflicted with another bout of boredom, I think about what I will do next.

 _Hm, what to do? Maybe I should talk to someone else..._

* * *

"Lowen!"

Lowen's calmly replacing the horseshoes on his steed. His back faces me as his hunched over position was too focused on the task at hand, though he appears over-cumbered.

He pleaded, "Lieutenant! Can you help me? I've never done this alone before, and I'm confused!"

That was obvious enough. The poor lad was doing it all wrong. Had my rancher grandfather glimpsed me doing this, then I'd be due for an old-fashioned switching. Luckily for Lowen, I am above such methods of discipline, and I agree to help him in this simple yet tedious task.

"I need nails!"

First, I locate the wrought iron nails that were to be applied to the creature's hooves. I found them in a toolbox far away from Lowen's radius of accessibility...and I'm baffled.

"Hey...why is the toolbox all the over here? At the opposite end of the stable?"

Lowen smiles awkwardly, "Eh...I didn't think ahead when I put it over there. Bring it over here, my tools should be in the box."

I obliged and opened the box. I see an assortment of cheaply made tools inside, with a hammer, nails, and some grooming equipment catching my eye. I jokingly pick up a pair of scissors and glide them just above Lowen's tuft of green hair.

I said, "Young man, I think you need a haircut. The beautiful girls won't swoon for you if you're out here looking like a cup of noodles."

Lowen said, "Hey! Cut it off, and hurry with those tools! I've been in this position forever!"

Stifling my laughter, I hand him the hammer and a half-dozen nails. Since my friend was still clueless on how to complete his task, I give him a few pointers.

I said, "Okay, the trick is to pull this off without startling the animal. You can do that by..."

 **...**

 _That...took a while..._

Having completed our tesk, we left the stables and lounge around while sipping on some fresh water. The sun is bears down on my brown skin like a hammer, and a drip of sweat drips down my unacclimated forehead.

I said, "Why is it so hot around here?"

Even I knew the answer to that question. Yet, I had to be reminded by someone with only a marginal knowledge in meteorology.

Lowen said, "Because it's summer, duh. Isn't it supposed to be much hotter in Carazan anyway? Why are you complaining about the weather here?"

He was right. During summer, temperatures can reach the high nineties in my supposed "home country". Meanwhile, it's only about eighty degrees here in Lycia. This weather should be a cakewalk for me if not for the few months I'd spent shivering in Illia.

I said, "That's because I left Carazan a few years ago. I've been taking refuge in Illia for some time with my niece...but then everything changed..."

"How so...if you don't mind tell me?"

I hesitated. I had just set myself up for a personal calamity. If I say too little, then Lowen will grow suspicious of me. His little seed of doubt will spread across the army like an uncontrollable epidemic of flu, with the result ultimately being my popular expulsion. However, the inverse is also true. If I say too much, then it's game over now. Nobody will rescue my dear Laniakea, and I'll be thrown to rot in prison for the crimes I did not commit.

I need to watch my next few words very carefully. Extract an emotional response from him if I can, but don't leave enough on the table for him to piece my past together.

I take a deep breath, and with Lani's memory firmly in my mind, I began.

I said, "I...grew up in a good family on the outskirts of town...but after my 10th birthday I became an orphan. I lived the rest of my childhood in grueling poverty, however I pulled myself from my bootstraps and climbed the ladder of the military in quick time. By my 16th birthday I had already earned myself a seat in Carazan's tactician academy..."

"I established myself amongst the military elite in my home country. I had it all, money, women, power. But I wasn't happy. All those superficial things felt worthless in this chasm we call the game of life, and I spent months trying to find it. Eventually, I did find some meaning in my life, in the form of a little girl..."

"She was my niece, the daughter of my older sister. The latter had died after being taken away by some gangsters for enslavement, and by law her child fell onto me to care for. At first, I didn't like it, and our relationship was tense for the first few weeks. But eventually, we grew to truly love each other, and I had at last found the thing I'd been wanting. A reason to live, and someone to share my life with..."

"But...that all changed with the civil war. I didn't feel like my particular faction was going to win the war, so I packed whatever few possessions I could and fled the country. I went to a place as far away from the conflict as possible, and I wound up in Illia. There, we lived peacefully until I came upon the likes of a mysterious sorcerer."

Lowen, who at this point was entranced in my story, felt curious about this nameless mage.

He asked, "Mysterious sorcerer? Do you know his name?"

I shook my head, "I do not. He took my niece to fulfill whatever shady experiment he had planned and escaped into the dead of night. Enraged, I swore my revenge and promised to my niece that I'd one day reunite with her. That is yet to be seen, but I believe I'm in the right place by being here with you guys."

 _!_

"So, you're looking for someone too..."

Lowen said, "Rebecca?"

Our green haired archer was quietly standing nearby while leaning comfortably against an idle tree. She'd been shamelessly eavesdropping through the whole conversation, and she'd camouflaged well enough with the vegetation that neither of us spotted her.

She said, "Yeah, I'm here. I happen to be looking for someone too. His name is Daniel, but we call him Dan. He's...my older brother."

There's...something _off_ about Rebecca. She's usually very cheery and upbeat around me and Lowen, but now she's very somber...almost sad. It's incredibly off-putting seeing this part of her personality, no matter how human it may be.

I said, "Rebecca, do you want to talk to us about your brother?"

Rebecca nods, and her tense shoulders relax like she's finally ridding herself of some unspoken burden. We invite her to take a seat by us, and Lowen offers her his canteen full of water.

She said, "T-Thank you sir knight. You are honorable."

 _Heh, this whole interaction has the aura of a counseling session. I can't say I know much in the topic of psychology, but I sure can listen..._

Now comfortable, she began her story...

"We grew up in a little village in the outskirts of Castle Pherae. We lived there happily...but there would occasionally come times of famine as the crops varied between the years. Those times were tough, but we'd always make it through knowing more prosperous times were over the horizon. However, sometimes our neighbors would lose strength and get sick...with everyone powerless to do anything about it..."

"My brother and his friend Wil looked at this, and decided they'd try for their fortunes abroad. Both of them were always the ambitious lot, and had plenty of strength with their youth. So, they left the village to become mercenaries...but they never returned..."

Rebecca sighs and looks toward the ground. Tears began to blot her eyes.

"I-I fear the worst for them. It's been over two years and we haven't gotten anything back...not even a letter. I should've stopped them...I should've..."

Rebecca was...noticeably shaken. I knew how it felt to wear the burden of someone else's safety on your sleeve, and the terror one can sustain knowing we could've done more...

I said, "This is not your fault. They made the decision and thus are responsible for any trouble their way. Do not beat yourself over this...I'm sure it'd trouble them more if they knew you did."

"Are you sure?"

Lowen said, "I'm certain. I have a little sister back home, and I think I can relate. The fact your going this far to look for them says enough about you as a person."

I raise my brow and nodded approvingly. I did not expect something so deep from someone as young as Lowen, but lately he's been full of nothing but surprises. I've been underestimating the maturity of this rookie knight, and perhaps it was time I stopped doing so.

Rebecca said, "O-Ok! I won't beat myself up anymore than...thanks to you both! I feel truly blessed to call you two my new friends!"

 _Friends?_

That word catches me off guard. I hadn't made a friend since my relationship with Canas almost a month ago...but yet here Rebecca is proclaiming just that. I...I didn't know what to think.

Was this okay? Rebecca had put her trust within a persona as fake as the fool's gold [pyrite] running through these rivers. Was it morally right for me to accept her friendship when the world can't even accept my own identity?

Regardless, the choice isn't mine to make. Lowen already expressed his acceptance of Rebecca's gleeful banter, and it'll look odd if I don't follow suit.

I said, "I feel grateful too, Rebecca. Hopefully, we have many happy moments in our future!"

I...may have to consider distancing myself from these two. If we get too close than it'll only serve to hurt them when the truth gets out...and I can't do that. I need to establish myself as a cold recluse outside the reach of the common troop, not the easy-to-approach older brother that's amicable with everybody.

 _This sucks...but I need to protect myself. Do it for her..._

...

"I...I have to go..."

I excuse myself from my newly-made friends lock myself alone in my solitary tent far away from human activity. It looks the same that I left it, and I rummage my hand through my disorganized pile of laundry...

 _Where is it..._

 _!_

I produce a metal object from the heap. It's a blue amulet of Illian origin...a gift I had recieved from Lumina during my birthday. Opening it, my eyes focus on the small portrait the casing protected from the elements...

She...looked so adorable. So innocent...

 _This...this never ending pit of sadness in my heart. I can't control it. It feels like it eats me inside more and more every day. Oh, why did I fail...?_

Tears blot my eyes as I gaze upon the portrait of a silver haired little girl. That...of my niece Laniakea.

* * *

"We're under attack!"

 _Eh?_

I groggily open my eyes and regain my bearings. I had spent the past hour napping inside my disorganized tent, and my mind frantically searches the scene for answers.

 _Where..._

The voice shouts again, "We're under attack! Everyone rally around Lord Eliwood!"

 _Eliwood..._

 _..._

 _!_

I come to my senses and erupt from my tent like a shaken-up bottle of cola. Looking around, I see that the camp was deserted if all humanity, with nothing but prints on the ground signifying past activity.

 _Huh? What's going on here?_

"Hey! You there! Prepare yourself!"

To my astonishment, a bandit had infiltrated deep into our lines. He must've emerged from the nearby mountains; a sole man lusting to terrorize the nearby villagers for their gold. His eyes look like those of a rabid bear, and they glare at me like I was scum to annihilated.

I drew my weapon and did as the man said. I pinned my feet deep into the dirt, and held my weapon tight within my grasp.

 _He...looks young. I wonder if he'd left home to do the same thing that Daniel did, but could only find work with these bandits. Is it possible that...this man could be him? A man so desperate for coin that he'd throw his humanity to be completely consumed by greed?_

 _No...that's not possible. Daniel...is a farm boy at heart. He'd never hurt these defenseless villagers. Right?_

With those thoughts, I do my best to discard any hesitation I carried deep in my heart. Just as it always was in the case of battle, I'd either kill him or he'd kill me. There was no in between, and the sooner I learned to accept that...the better...

"Hwuaaaagh!"

The man charges forward with his axe raised high over his head...but I don't flinch. As intimidating as this technique may be, it was more tailored as a scare tactic than anything else. That was because of one crucial flaw...

 _!_

My cold, unfeeling blade tears through his unprotected stomach. My opponent's pained face widens with shock, as if he'd were unexpecting of this inevitable truth. This is the way of war...the storied, bloodied path brought upon by the angel of death.

The man falls onto the ground dead, but I'm left speculating about him. His inexperience suggested that he was a novice thrust into this new profession, with his form being as green as the grass. He likely didn't want to be a bandit, but the unforgiving game of life had played him a bad hand. Perhaps he had a family he was caring for, and the only way to keep them from the rough hand of poverty was the measly salary provided to him by these bandits.

 _Well, he won't have to worry about his burdens anymore. My blade has made sure of that. I've...dealt him a quick and merciful death..._

I turn my back on him and walk away. I can't spare a thought towards him with my ally's lives still at stake. Or more specifically, the well-being of Rebecca and Lowen.

But...was that okay?

 _What am I thinking?_

As a tactician, it's my duty to prioritize the needs of the army over the needs of the individual. Besides, I've resolved myself to be more cold and isolate going forward...right?

 _Fair and impartial..._

However, to be impartial would make me no different from the morphs that preceded me. As is common with the rest of humanity, I had a tendency to do things that weren't necessarily logical. Even if I told myself I wouldn't care for them, subconsciously I always will. With that in mind, is it even realistic to see myself as such? To even proclaim that I can even be more cold and isolate going forward?

To be honest with myself, to do so would bring me a lot of inner pain. I've dealt with enough of that in my past, so what's the point of inviting more of it? Don't I already have enough of a burden? What do I gain by doing this?

The answer is as clear as it was fortunate. It's nothing...absolutely nothing...

 _Maybe I should go look for them..._

 _Eh?_

Biff! Thwack!

 _Huh?!_

An arrow breezes over my head and implants itself firmly inside a bush. From the sound of it...the impact seemed organic.

But...then came the scream.

"Aghhhh!"

A bandit crops up from the brush and charges directly at me. I instinctively draw my fire tome to nuke this guy where he stood...but that proved unnecessary. ]My savior sooner finds her arrow fly into her opponent, this time incapacitating his knee. The towering giant crumbles onto the ground like a poorly built building and writhes there in pain.

"Lieutenant! Are you all right?"

Rebecca emerges from her protective, concealed position high above on a tree. She had some makeshift camouflage paint across her body, along with leaves glued onto her clothing. If she was trying to imitate _Rambo_ , it was a job well done.

I said, "R-Rebecca! You're okay! What are you doing!"

Confused, she tilts her head and lowers herself from her hiding spot.

She said, "Yeah, I'm okay...why wouldn't I be? During the battle, Marcus told me to find a place to be useful so...here I am. I'm trying to stop anybody that comes near the village."

 _Stop? You're just outright killing them..._

 _On the bright side, at least I know I didn't kill Dan. She would've stopped me otherwise._

Daniel's safety, something else felt odd to me. It was Rebecca's joyful demeanor in the face of the cruel realities of war...and I did not like what I saw.

I said, "Rebecca...doesn't this seem weird to you?"

"What is?"

 _She doesn't understand...does she?_

I said, "This whole war business. It's clear to me you're not made for this type of work...yet you're out here with nothing but smiles in the face of danger and misery. Doesn't that...seem weird to you?"

"..."

Rebecca pauses for a moment, and she tightens the grip she has on her bow. My words influenced her, and I knew it. These next few minutes will be instrumental in our friendship going forward...should I choose to keep it.

She said, "Lieutenant...I was going to keep this to myself for as long as I could but...I'm terrified. Honestly, I really am. I'm so...terrified. Kenan, do you know how it feels to risk your life on the battlefield? To do so while being in a place so foreign and far away from home?"

Those words...hit me hard. It was a sentiment I could empathize with myself, though I could never admit as much. At least not until today.

I replied, "Yeah, I feel scared all the time, but there's someone in my life I'm working for that trumps that. I can't leave here no matter what I do, but you on the other hand are different. You can leave this battlefield and never come back. War is tough young lady, nobody will fault you or call you a coward."

My eyes fixate onto my young audience member, and I briefly wonder if this was the same talk I would've given myself if I had the chance. What would I have done then? Would I have stayed with Lyn if I knew about the horrors of battles, or the debilitating injuries I'd have to painfully rehab later? Would I have run away to stow myself with some random village in the wilderness and become forgotten by the pages of history? I didn't know the answer to that question, but I won't rob Rebecca of answering that for herself.

She pauses, and just as she looks like she'll accept my offer...she declines.

She said, "I...I appreciate the thought, Kenan. However, I must decline. My brother means far too much to me to give up now. I want to find him...with whatever it takes."

"Rebecca..."

"I don't need your help to find him. If you're going to trouble your mind worrying about my safety, then I'll separate myself from you. I only hurt the team by making you impartial..."

 _Impartial..._

 _Heh...she can see she has the potential to sway my judgement. But...even then I can't help but admire her resolution. I want to help her..._

 _I think I'll give in into my human emotions just this once. I'll protect her...and I'll open myself up more to my allies too._

I said, "That won't be necessary. If I'm doing my job correctly, then by the end of this entire journey everybody should be going home in one piece. Besides, we can help each other. You be on the lookout for my niece...and I'll watch out for Daniel."

 _If Rebecca's going to risk her life, then there's no reason for us to help each other out. I'll make her time worthwhile, just as she'll do for me._

She replied, "Really? That sounds amazing! Here, let's shake on it!"

 _!_

She _nearly_ yanks my metal hand from its socket, and leaves a vigorous gray stain. She had used so much force that some paint scraped off.

 _I'm...just going to ignore that._

She said, "Hm...for some reason I expected a tighter grip from you..."

I quipped, "I'm trying to save on mana right now. Any tighter and I fear I might lose a spell for the day..."

Despite the clear limitations inhibited by technology, I still feel compelled to smile and laugh with my young companion. I think this is the beginning of a bright new chapter in my life, and at least for a little while...I felt hope.

 _Man, this feels good. Why can't I act like this with everybody?_

Rebecca said, "Oh, hey Lowen! There you are, I was looking for you!"

Lowen was trotting slowly towards us, and he appears tired. His armor was bent in all sorts of ways, and his lance was broken in two. Although it looked like he was in no mood to deal with Rebecca's gleeful outbursts...I'm gladly mistaken.

He said, "Oh, Rebecca and the Lieutenant. You two just missed the most epic fight I've ever taken part in. It truly was one for the ages."

I asked, "Epic fight?"

Lowen explains to us that in the time it took me to wake up and contact Rebecca, the rest of the army wound up in a major engagement at the nearby mountains. Although at first they were outnumbered, and all seemed loss, unexpected reinforcements from the north turned the tide of the battle and resulted in the defeat of the enemy bandits. The copious use of hand gestures and imagery by Lowen truly made it sound like a great battle...a battle neither the archer nor myself had the honor of participating in.

 _Drat. How the heck did I sleep through all of this?!_

 _Ah man...Marcus is going to give me a mouthful. I am SO fired._

"Say, where were you two during the battle? We could've used a little bit of your magic back there, Lieutenant."

A bead of anxious sweat falls down my forehead. Before I could say anything, Rebecca beats me to the punch.

She said, "Oh! I was protecting the village and K-"

I interjected, "I-I was helping you defend the rearguard! Oh look, there's another one of those bastards over there by the ridge!"

"What?!"

I point my finger towards a defenseless little shrub huddled between a rock and a cedar tree. Both of my companions took on a defensive stance, and I quickly called upon the magic coursing deep within my veins...

"FIRE!"

Devastating, purple flames leave my fingers and shoot through the air like a jet. It crashes onto the shrub in a fantastic display of strength, with the vegetation disintegrating into a magical puff of smoke. Rebecca and Lowen look on impressed, oblivious to my successful attempt at covering myself up.

Rebecca said, "Wow, Lieutenant! That was awesome, I had no idea there was a guy in there!"

Lowen agreed, "Same here. I figured we would've heard some sort of screaming, but the blast was so powerful it got drowned out."

I breathe a sigh of relief. Fortunately for me, neither Rebecca nor Lowen had amazing vision, a symptom of the lack of doctors inhabiting rural villages. In their minds, they just witnessed me defend the village with my magic, and this was a story they'd surely tell the others, Marcus included.

 _That's just the way I'd like it. At least in this way that old man won't bother me._

I smile, and stretch my tired body. That magical attack took quite a bit from me, and I was ready to shake it off with some walking.

I said, "So...how about we go meet up with Lord Eliwood? I'd like to talk to those mysterious reinforcements...maybe celebrate over a shot of whiskey."

Lowen replied, "Whiskey? Mind if I take a sip with you?"

I laughed, "Hahaha. Funny joke..."

"No."

Rebecca laughs while Lowen lowers his head in shame. Together, we stroll east towards the rest of our army.

Meanwhile, back in the bush, tucked in between the scorching bristles, was a single skeleton. A skeleton that at one point, had an arrow pointed directly at Lowen's heart...

* * *

 **A/N:** Congrats on making it to the end! These next few chapters are going to be like this one in where I focus on Sam's relationship with different members of the army. His dreams are going to make a return too, I can't wait!

Also, I'm still looking for a beta. My PM's will remain open for all inquiries.


	53. Undying Suspicion

**Chapter 48: Undying Suspicion**

 **By SodiumChlouride12, derived from Fire Emblem, owned by Nintendo.**

 **A/N: Yeah, sorry about putting this out a day late. We got stranded somewhere in Montana, but on the bright side now I have plenty of inspiration for another snow episode. It's a shame I won't have another chance to write one of those until later...**

 **Samuel and Lyn are going to find themselves in some conflict. Both with themselves and forces of evil lurking about. Look out for that. When faced with this adversity, both may find it neccessary to make some...dubious decisions.**

 **N: Sometimes, we find ourselves lost in a prison inside our own mind. To escape is outside the realm of reality...but to stay spells nothing but misery. Where else can we find the key, except among the possession of our own wills?**

* * *

 **Dreamscape...**

 _This place..._

 _I've been here before..._

 _Am I...dreaming?_

I was in the all-to-familiar void, a place between the spiritual and physical realms of our world. I had reached here because of my special carrier ability, which allowed me to access the void at random during my dreams. Usually, my presence here came at the precipice of some grander purpose...a purpose I was still unsure of.

 _Why am I here?_

In the past, my experiences here had mixed results. My first encounters with Nergal were deadly and nearly resulted in my demise, but they also had the side-effect of severing any connection I still had with my evil creator. Later on, I received dreams warning me of future dangers, got imprisoned for making a deal with a demon, and fought that after-mentioned demon in a battle to the death. Fortunately, most if not all of those events turned out well for me, though any of those experiences could have easily went south if I allowed it to...

 _Proceed with caution, Sam. This may be a dream, but if you die here, you die for real._

I think that, but even I knew assumptions like those where shoddy at best. I've "died" many times here, especially when reliving traumatic experiences. To be honest, I wasn't exactly _sure_ what the rules of this realm were, which isn't surprising since neither the laws of nature nor religion apply here. It appeared that the rules changed in every instance like a toxic high-school relationship, and I'm helpless to do anything but come along for the ride.

 _I still don't want to put myself in any unnecessary danger. There's no telling if I can still feel pain..._

That attitude turns out to be proven right, and the surrounding darkness morphs just as it always did. The pitch black sky transforms into a low ceiling full of a gray tiles, and the floor turns hard with concrete. The wide open space closes around me into a series of cubicle-like rooms, easily replicating into a quasi-asylum environment. The few furnishing decorating the dim rooms were an assortment of office chairs, medical equipment, and several cots. The whole place had an overwhelming cold and depressing aura about it...and I'm filled with a sense of dread.

 _What is this place?_

The room I'm in is a mental patient's living quarters, a horrible-looking structure with cracked walls, little to no furnishing besides a lone cot, and a complete absence of natural light. The lack of windows suggested that I was underground, and the blown-out door made me think this "asylum" had since been abandoned. The choking silence helped reinforce the latter belief...though that didn't explain the white hospital garb draped over my body.

 _Okay...this is weird._

Figuring I had nothing to lose, I walked out through the front door and found myself in a former "living area" that once housed the recreational activities of this asylum's patients. There was a stained, old sofa leaned against the stone wall, and a solitary blown-out television standing atop a stool with only two legs. Tucked away by the phone line was a window that served as the medicinal dispensary, though the nurse that manned that station was nowhere to be found...

 _This is creepy..._

The whole place is colder than a midwestern winter, and my body shivers uncontrollably. I tuck my garb closer to conserve more heat, but the fabric is too thin to do much to help. My breathing condenses like a puff of wintered smoke, and I'm left scrambling for all and any sources of external heat.

 _It's...really cold. I need to start a fire or find myself a blanket._

Fortunately, my solution wasn't difficult to find. It came in the form of a damaged chimney tucked away by the after-mentioned television, and its pit was clean for use. There was no firewood in sight, but I spotted a pile of broken furniture nearby.

 _I can use this. It won't be as good as actual firewood, but at the very least I can avoid frostbite._

Working quickly, I created a tiny pyramid from the scrap wood. I search the whole compound for a pair of matches, of which I found inside the nurse's drawer alongside her pack of cigarettes. I discarded the latter and took the former...

 _...!_

The fire burns bright in the dark room. It coats the gray walls with a layer of gold, and my skin radiates with life as the heat brought upon comforting energy. Elated with my work, I take a seat on a rusted sofa and pondered my next move.

 _Hm...so what now?_

"What do you think you're doing?"

Turning around, I noticed that I was _not_ alone in the compound. Standing directly across from me was a man wearing a thick leather jacket, black gloves, thick woolen pants, and a short-brimmed hat. His face hid behind a large porcelain bird mask, and his cane was...disturbingly bloodied. I can only assume that he'd used it to bludgeon some poor soul.

 _This man...he looks dangerous. Why does he remind me of Doctor Swift?_

Doctor Swift is the physician who treated me of my wounds after the final battle in Caelin. He was an arrogant, but kind man. He'd never walk around with a bloodied weapon like that, much less speak to me in a threatening manner.

Yet, here he is doing just that.

I said, "I could say the same for you, Doctor. What are you doing in my dream? Shouldn't you be in Caelin?"

The man doesn't flinch when I mention Caelin. In fact, he didn't react at all. He continues to stare at me from the comfort of his porcelain mask, a mask I just now realized was slowly contorting into a nightmare-ish version of itself.

He said, "Caelin? What is a Caelin? I'm here at the compound for a grand reason, young man. To cure the Pestilence...a vile disease that tears through man."

"The Pestilence?"

 _He's not referring to the bubonic plague...is he?_

I didn't realize it yet, but this man and Dr. Swift...were two very different people. I should've caught on with his voice, he spoke in a manner that was much more ominous and mysterious than that Caelic professional.

He replied, "The bubonic plague? The Pestilence is the Pestilence. It's very important I continue my research here so I can defeat that disease once and for all. My peers here appear to have the same intentions, and they've graciously allowed me a human subject at last."

 _Human subject?!_

I jump from the sofa and take a step back. The plague doctor doesn't move, but shifts his head like a painting in a haunted house.

I said, "W-What do you mean, doctor? What are you planning on doing to me? Is this not an asylum, a place to heal mental ailments? If I'm following correctly, you make it sound like the Pestilence is a biological pathogen."

"..."

The "Doctor" says nothing. I didn't know what was more unsettling, the consuming silence...or the hand gradually making its way to my throat.

 _I need to get out of here!_

I turn to run, and I flee as far away as I could. I round the corner until I find a pair of large double doors, but before I could open them...

 _!_

A hand firmly locks my ankle. It felt slimy and dead, much like the walker hands I'd felt in Swampmarsh. Looking down, I realize it was something much, _much_ worse.

It was a morph, a being who biologically is not much different from myself. However, as its golden eyes locked on with mine...I cruelly realize that this morph was a distorted mess of science. It was bald and genderless...resembling more reptilian than humanoid. The being's pale skin is completely naked, save for a patch that read the numbers "046-2".

I try to pull away, but it was futile. He keeps me immobilized by the door as the "Doctor" got closer and closer, even as I tried to kick this monstrosity to get it to loosen its grip.

 _!_

He grabs me by the throat, and an immobilizing burning sensation entrapped me. The closest thing I could compare it too was drinking the strongest proof bourbon known to man, but even that was a soft description. In reality, the feeling was more akin to consuming a hill of fire ants...

 _I can't breathe..._

His grip was by no means forceful, but I was still powerless against it. I could _feel_ the life drain from my body, and the world around me turned into a haze...

He said, "Yes...I will cure you of the Pestilence. I will cure you like I did with him."

 _With him?_

My eyes widen with horror. Was...that morph his own creation? Is that mass of quintessence a former human who had befallen into whatever "cure" this maniac had in mind? Would I...turn into that?

"Mwahahaha! With this subject, my research will be complete!"

As the doctor's laugh permeated through the building, a blinding light shot through my eyesight metal escaping through a wind tunnel. It was at this moment that I realized I would not die today...

It was there, trapped within the jaws of deaths that I found my escape. I...

Woke up...

* * *

 **That morning, about an hour before dawn...**

I open my eyes welcomed by familiar darkness, though this time the void wasn't absolute. Isolated particles of light bled through the canvas of my ceiling, and the sight is pleasing enough to produce one, anxiety-filled sigh.

I said, "That was some dream. It was so vivid too, it's been a while since I've been hit one of those. I wonder if it means anything..."

I stretch and get up to begin my day. After a nightmare like that, I doubted I'd be able to go back to sleep, so I figured it'd be better to spend this time running some errands I'd been putting off. I leave my tent with my pair of journey boots and stretch a little bit to loosen up my lame ankle.

 _Better start off with a little bit of yoga. Elimine forbid I aggravate this thing again..._

"Hey Lieutenant Vacia! Good morning!"

I flinch and rest my hand over my fire tome. Given the dream I just had, I was ready to nuke whatever play-do looking mofo was about to violate my eyeballs.

But...that was unnecessary. The voice came from Hector, the younger brother of my employer and newest addition to our army.

Hector is a large man with broad shoulders and an intimidating set of armor to boot. He's a childhood friend of Eliwood, though it's clear to me he's the rougher, more vulgar part of the pair. He joined us yesterday after hearing word of his friend's journey, and he arrived just in time to rescue our group from destruction at the hands of those bandits. I met him after the fact, and we shook hands once it became clear we'd start working together for a while.

Still, I don't know how I feel about the guy. Although I appreciate the upfront attitude of this noble, he's still insanely stubborn and rash...more so than Lyn ever was. I feel like this is the type of wanna-be-hero who'd involve himself (and us) in a fight we had no business involving ourselves, so I made sure to keep mental tabs on him anytime we had a meeting. It was a thankless burden I forced myself to take on, but as the group's tactician I had the responsibility to ensure all of our personalities meshed well with one another. I consider this a very important job for the continued wellness of our growing army.

 _If only I had a say in who we can bring in here. In an ideal world, I'd screen everybody before they'd even get involved with us. Fighting the enemy is hard enough, we shouldn't be fighting amongst ourselves in top of that._

I _try_ to set up an interview with every new trainee the morning after they'd joined us. I've already spoken to Rebecca, Eliwood, Marcus, and the others...but now I had more recruits on our plate. I need to interview fo- I mean three people ASAP; Matthew is unnecessary since he's already well acquainted with my new identity.

Might as well get started with Hector...

I said, "Good morning, Hector. Erm...you got a minute? If it's alright with you, I'd like to conduct a brief interview. Just something for me to start a profile on you."

Hector replied, "Eh? An interview? What in blasted hell is that?"

 _Mental note: Hector's never had an interview before. Initial impressions suggest that he's lacking the finesse most people in the noble class possess..._

I said, "It's just where we sit down for a few minutes and I ask you some questions. They won't be too hard, I promise. I'd like to...gauge you as a human being."

He asked, "It won't get in the way of my morning training, will it?"

Puzzled, I raise my brow. It was a good thing there was only a half moon in the sky, otherwise Hector would've seen it.

I said, "You...you train at this time of day? Won't the lack of light hinder your workout?"

He replied, "Nope, I make do with moonlight. Besides, isn't that the reason you're awake too?"

"To train?"

"Yeah."

I chuckled, "Heavens no. The only reason I wake up at this hour is because I have trouble sleeping."

Upon hearing that, Hector puffs up his cheeks and squeezed them with his hands. He looked ridiculous, no different than a poorly executed joke at the hands of a pre-schooler...

He said, "Awww...you poor baby. Did my _wittle boy_ have a night terror?"

 _?_

Slightly irritated, I said, "Just sit down and lemme interview you before I get some magic practice in..."

Whether it be his appreciation of my dank humor, or some unexpressed fear for my fire tome, he agrees and together we take a seat by the now extinguished campfire. Its smoldering embers were like a lone candlelight amidst a sea of darkness, and I take the opportunity to strengthen it by throwing in a slab of firewood.

I said, "So, I take you and Eliwood are good friends? Where did you meet...?"

I learn that the two men met at a young age. It was a story taken straight from a poetic epic where they came across each other during an annual meeting between all the Lycian lords...

The oath of rites...

* * *

 **Many years ago...**

It's winter in Ostia. Snow falls through the mountainous landscape, and the countryside is barren of all activity. A few souls scurry through the streets of town as they attempt to the warmth of their homes...but no one pays any mind to the routine ceremony taking place in Castle Ostia. Nobody, but the Lycian lords and their children...

Children wait impatiently on a round table inside of a well-furnished room. They were the offspring of the Lycian marquesses reaffirming their vows in the annual oath of rites, a ceremony where each man individually recounted their support for the alliance. It was a fairly trivial and tedious affair, but the importance of the events still necessitated the presence of every ruling family in Lycia. Everybody from the wives to the lords themselves loathed the event…especially so by their children.

Eliwood takes a deep breath as he silently listens to his father recite the ancient oath through the door. It was a phrase born out of a language long since made obsolete by the sands of time, and the soothing tongue makes the young boy lose some of his composure as his head _slowly_ droops towards the table...

"Hmph! Enough of this!"

Eliwood is abruptly brought back to reality as a peer jumps onto the table with a knife in his right hand. The red-haired lad recognizes him as the only child of Marquess Laus, the bombastic Erik.

He said, "I'm tired of sitting here and doing nothing! We ought to make our own oath, one much more binding than the spelling bee our fathers are conducting right now! Come, join me as we create a pact much stronger than words!"

Erik concludes his fiery speech by lightly cutting the palm of his hand. He then passes his knife to the girl next to him, who shrugs her shoulders and followed suit...

* * *

 **Present...**

I look at Hector with a face somewhere in between the realm of disgust and disbelief.

I said, "That sounds nasty as hell."

"Shut up and let me finish. I'm about to reach the good part."

* * *

Eliwood feels a sting of pain as the blade penetrated his skin. He didn't really _understand_ why he and the other kids had to this...but Erik was far too influential with the others for him to say no. Besides, even with the pain he still felt a sense of comaraderie with his peers, and this would be an excellent bonding moment for the future leaders of this nation.

Erik looks on approvingly as they returned the knife to him. Eliwood was the last one with a clean hand, and now they can proceed with the new and _improved_ ceremony.

Gathering the attention of the other children, he exclaimed, "Now! Let us join hands in strengthening our pact among the Lycian nobility! We will not stop by merely doing this with words. May the blood we spill now keep this alliance together for another millennium!"

The crowd of Lycian lordlings erupt with approval, and Erik shakes the hand of marquess Ryerde's first-born. Everyone else follows suit, though Eliwood hesitated. This ultimately turned out to be an unwise decision, and potential partners disappeared like snow at the turn of winter.

 _Drat...I shouldn't have devolved into cold feet. I need to find someone, but who'll join hands with me? I barely even know anybody here..._

"Hey, you're the son of marquess Pharae right?"

Eliwood turns his head and spots the person who was arguably the most important in the room (besides maybe Erik). It was the son of marquess Ostia, the blue-haired dynamo named Hector. Up to this point, the two of them had never met, and only knew of each other through stories passed down by the intrigue of court. Because of distance, the two cantons didn't have much in terms of diplomatic relations, and thus today served as the first meeting between the two lordlings.

Eliwood replied, "Yeah, my name is Eliwood. I take that you're Hector of Ostia?"

Hector nodded, "Yes, I am. Now, are you just going to stand there...or are you going to shake my hand?"

Eliwood chuckled. He had heard that Hector liked to cut to the point, but even then he didn't expect him to be _that_ up front.

Eliwood said, "I suppose I should. My hand is bleeding, might as well."

Hector replied, "Ha! Well, we better get on with that then..."

The two children smiled as they shook hands. There was a sense of vigor and mutual respect as they did so, and both understood this would be a memory they'd recall for years to come. Although neither of them would know it, this would become the dawn of a great and long friendship...

* * *

I jot down some final notes as I wrap up the interview with Hector. The whole thing had progressed smoothly, and despite some rather vulgar behavior [from both sides] we had reached a state of mutual understanding.

I said, "Thanks for your time, Hector. I got everything I needed, so you can go ahead and begin your morning training."

Stone-faced, he replied, "Tell me Kenan, are you familiar with the concept of the Lycian Exchange?"

"Lycian Exchange?"

The Lycian exchange is a concept that states "All favors should be reciprocated when needed". There was no time limit associated with the honoring of that favor, and if the favor-taker so chooses they could "cash-in" their favors immediately. Its closest familiar equivalent is the "solids system" seen among young folk in the American school system, though this version often held cataclysmic consequences especially when considering the power held by these nobles.

Hector said, "You are in my debt, and thus you must help me train in the morning. I need a sparring partner, and I don't want to wake up Eliwood from his beauty sleep."

My heart sinks. Knowing this man's strength, I didn't relish the thought of spending half an hour trying to parry his axe. Although at one point I wielded plenty of strength, most of it had gone away when I was rotting in prison. Amidst all the things going on between then and now, I never bothered trying to build it back, and now I'm regretting that decision.

I said, "Uh, I think I'll p-paaaaaaa"

I'm wriggling like a worm as Hector effortlessly lifts me up into the air by the back of my hood. He didn't seem to care that I weighed about 150 pounds; the blue-haired noble easily beat me by over 75.

He said, "I won't take no for an answer. If you weren't prepared for this, then you shouldn't have asked for a favor. You're a swordie right? I've sparred with Eliwood plenty of times, and although our series is tied I think you won't stand a chance against me!"

"Tied? He told me he's beating you by three."

Hector laughs and pats me on the shoulder. Over the horizon, I spotted a rising sun cradling against the green grass. The new addition of light gave way to a small ring indented in dry dirt, and I gulped when I saw the long sword sticking up from the ground.

Throwing me onto the ground, he said, "Beating me by three, eh? I'll be sure to talk to him later. You'll see firsthand why what you've heard is fake news."

* * *

 **Several Days later...**

"KEEEEENAAAAAAN!"

My ears bleed as Serra's screaming expunged itself through the entirety of our moving caravan. Noticeable groans ripple through the army, and I'm left having to deal with this pink banshee alone...

I said, "Serra...I told you to call me by my formal name, Lieutenant Vacia."

We were en route to Castle Santaruz, the home of the marquess. After entering the country, Eliwood informed me about some peculiar details in regards with the bandits that attacked us...

 _They were far too organized to be simple bandits. Marcus proposed the theory that they may have been waiting for us to arrive...and if that's true then there might be something more sinister lying ahead. I'd...like to go talk to Marquess Santaruz. He knew my father, and I think he may know something about what's going on..._

"Mark, you're losing yourself deep in thought again! You should be focused on my wonderful self!"

 _Mark?! Does...she know?!_

Had it not been for the mask on my face, my look of shock alone would've been enough justification to arouse suspicion. Luckily, everyone in the army had grown accustomed to Serra's outbursts, and they paid us no mind. Everybody, except for Matthew.

Glaring at me, he motions his hand below his neck like a guillotine was decapitating it. It's a frank reminder that _if_ anyone ever found out my true identity, then he and his employer would be powerless to protect me against any vengeful souls...

Like the survivors of Azazel's rampage at Castle Caelin.

In a hushed tone, I said, "Serra, I don't know who Mark is, but do I need to remind you what my name is? It's Kenan, and I'm going to need you to memorize that fairly quickly if we're going to work together."

I needed to get in this little girl's mind that me and Mark are not the same person. Behavior like this shouldn't be treated like a game, though Serra didn't seem to understand that.

She said, "Oh? I'm sorry, for a second there I confused you with another guy I knew. You two just... _feel_ so similiar. I don't know why I feel this way, you're much more uptight and mature than he ever was."

 _Uptight?_

Serra's gaze slowly floats over towards a nearby mountain. She was reminiscing over times since long past, a time when I went by a different name than I do now.

She said, "He had a thing for that princess, and she did too. I don't know what she saw in him; I mean it's not like he was a _horrible_ person. It's just that...I felt like she could have done so much better."

Slighted, I asked, "How so?"

Serra smiles as she notices the intrigue in my voice. In her eyes, I had fallen into the trap she had expertly crafted for herself, and now she had my full attention.

She said, "Well, in my opinion he was quite boring. Always studying and rambling some nonsense about natural sc- whatever. I couldn't imagine having to listen through that _day after day_ , I think I'd rather die than do that. Lyn even complained to me about it at one point...oh her poor soul..."

 _She complained to Serra about it?_

"Don't think that's the end of it! He had the most atrocious looking facial hair I'd ever seen in my life, and I'd spend everyday wondering if he'd do us all a favor by shaving it. He was also so arrogant 100% of the time, and I just wanted someone to set him straight. Ugh...I should've done it myself. Everyone knows just how _good_ I am in changing people."

I quipped, "You sound a bit arrogant there yourself little lady. If he was here, I'm sure he wouldn't take too kindly to hearing that..."

I was being patient with her. I had to, she's only 16 years old and I can't lose my cool to this high school mean girl. I'll bend, but won't break. I'm 20 years old...I can handle this...

She continued, "I wouldn't really worry about that. He's somewhere far away, probably in the desolate isolation of this continent's western islands. It's a good thing for Lady Lyn. In his absence, she's found herself with a noble from the prestigious southwestern cantons. Quite the upgrade in my opinion."

 _Noble?_

A pit of disappointment builds around my gut. This wasn't the first time hearing this news...but that didn't make it any less painful.

I said, "She...found someone else?"

She nodded, "Yes, I don't remember the name of the young man, but I hear he's truly dashing. Polite, genuinely nice, and rich. What else can a woman want? If you were in Lyn's shoes, wouldn't you take that over a conceded, burdened commoner?"

My eye twitches once. The wrath building up in my hands were indescribable, and it took everything within me not to draw my dagger in anger. My face boils red like a volcano...and I was nearing my limit.

 _You...you don't know who I was. Stop talking like you do._

It felt...frustrating listening to her speak about me in this way. We'd never had a close relationship the first time we'd traveled together, though I learned plenty about her by listening to Erk's squabbles. Yet, here she was speaking to Kenan like she truly knew who I was. From my perspective, her arrogance and outright ignorance served as an unforgivable sin.

"Y-You..."

 _!_

"That's enough Serra, hold your tongue."

Just as I'm about to break my nerve, Matthew comes in and silenced the pink cleric. He's cool and collected, which was the complete opposite of what I was right now.

Serra said, "Aw come on, I was just starting to have fun."

Matthew scolded her, "Nobody has fun by ridiculing a dead man. Mark's already seen his justice in Illia…he found his demise at the end of a noose. Please, I don't know what they taught you in the convent, but at least let his soul rest."

"..."

Serra goes silent. The gravity of the words she had said begin to weigh down on her, and although she was doing her best to keep a poker face, she knew she did something wrong. Had Serra been more experienced in the game of life, she probably would've apologized right then and there...

But she wasn't. All she did was begrudgingly leave in silence, with Matthew alone to quench my fuming temperament.

I clenched my teeth, "Serra...is quite the gossip."

Matthew sighed, "Unfortunately. She's a handful, and a devil when you grant her an instance of your attention. Mmm, tell me...are you upset?"

"Very."

He said, "Well then, I'm afraid you must hold it in. Lord Eliwood told me to inform you of some trouble..."

I asked, "More bandits?"

Surprisingly, he shakes his head. The concern in his voice is so striking that it makes me forget about my previous tribulations.

He said, "No, I'm afraid it's much worse..."

"We're dealing with some old friends of yours..."

* * *

"Shit..."

I swear under my breath as I view the...predicament before me. Dozens of bandits swarmed around Castle Santaruz like fire ants on a colony mound. They easily outnumbered us, and by the look of them they looked much stronger than our last opponents...

Eliwood muttered, "I don't like the look of this. Hector, do you have any idea what's going on here?"

Hector replied, "No, but it doesn't sound like these people are employed with the marquess. Look at their garments. They don't contain the colors of this canton, yet they seem too organized to be simple bandits. I mean...just look at their troop formations..."

I peer down the plain we had set down our position. Nearby, I can spot the fence of a nearby village, along with the silhouette of another far away on the other side of a river. There's a bridge protecting that after-mentioned river, and it's guarded by a few armed men. One of these men looked...peculiar when compared to the others, and by the appearance of his dress I could infer that he was the only sacaen in the enemy army.

 _But why is this significant?_

I shake my head and sigh. In truth, this detail wasn't significant at all. A person's nationality holds no bearing in this battle. I needed to analyze other details such as troop placements, terrain features, and defense fortifications if we're going to defeat this difficult foe...

However, I could not pause and take my time with such trivialities. As they say in some war diaries: "Wait to attack an enemy too long, and they may attack you first..."

A nearby bush ruffles with life. At first I think it's the wind...but our scrappy lord sees through it.

Hector exclaimed, "Hm? Who's there? Show yourself!"

"..."

The bush ruffles again, but this time more vigorously. Eliwood looks on wide-eyed as a large man emerged from the vegetation, while I do the same in regards to his sturdy-looking armor.

He sneered, "Pah! I can't believe I was spotted by a snot-nosed stripling!"

The man is a green-haired knight named...Boise. I don't know why I know his name, but considering my past it's likely we'd met at some point in the Black Fang. However, despite that I still couldn't know for certain if this man was here on their orders. Or more specifically, on the orders of Nergal...whether directly or indirectly.

[In reality, the knight's name was Boies. At this point, my memory was so shoddy that I'd switched up his name with a city in Idaho. I wouldn't realize this until much later.]

Hector asked for the knight's name, but he refused to give it. Instead, Boise taunted him with a plethora of insults not appropriate for this account...which Hector reacts to negatively.

He said, "I don't need your name. Why should I care what a corpse is called?"

Boise laughs, "Hahaha! The cub thinks he's a wolf! Does your bite match your bark? Tell you what, if you make it to the castle alive, we'll find out, eh?"

The presumed enemy commander then runs off back to the enemy army. Hector and Eliwood quickly get together to discuss battle plans, but meanwhile I'm left in silence deliberating about what had just happened.

 _Was...that man with the black fang? He was in plainclothes...and I couldn't see the characteristic tattoo hidden under all that armor. What's going on?_

 _Ugh...damn it Hector. Why did you have to piss him off?_

* * *

 **Later...**

"Hey Eliwood, that's the swordsman those village folk were talking about...isn't it!?"

"Yeah, it looks like they've posted him to guard this bridge. Be careful, that blade of his is dangerous..."

We'd arrived at the bridge connecting the castle to the surrounding villages. A ferocious river hummed underneath its wooden planks, though the water was the least our worries. Standing directly at the other side is a Sacaen swordsman, a warrior some villagers had warned us about earlier when we protected their homes from the enemy.

 _"Careful about that one. He's fast and carries a powerful blade, the expertly crafted Killing Edge brand of swords..."_

The Killing Edge derives most of its strength from its potent critical hit ability. A critical hit deals 3 times the damage than a regular hit, and nothing can really be done about it except stacking armor or dodging. However, I'm too slow and have no protection to do any of those things. Another factor that can influence a critical hit is the "luck" quantity, though given my past I doubted I had any of that to speak of...

So, with all these things to consider, this swordsman served as the perfect assassin to end my life. I need to avoid fighting this guy at all cost, lest he carve me up into tonight's serving of pasta.

"..."

 _Shoot, he's coming right at me is he?_

The green-haired swordsman barrels through the bridge like an unstoppable supersonic train. He clears the wooden arches faster than most Olympic sprinters in a 100m dash, and his sword firmly aims itself for my throat...

 _!_

"Ack!"

The blade cleanly cuts through the air, but before it could decapitate me I manage to catch the blade with my metal hand. My robotic limb cracks and whines as mana quickly pumps its way through the metal gearing...with the tips of my fingers bending against the sheer force carried behind this young man's sword.

The man said, "Huh...my sword should've torn through your hand like paper. What...exactly are you hiding underneath that glove?"

With a simple flick of the wrist, he twists his blade and effortlessly _rips out_ my hand straight from its socket. The scrap metal falls onto the ground with a light thud, and the grass below me turns crimson red from the amputated wiring connected to my ulnar artery...

I scream out in pain, but somehow manage to maintain my composure. My heart sinks when I spot my amputated hand wriggle on the ground like a worm, but my immediate concern was towards the exposed artery profusely spewing out blood.

 _Crap! I need to stop the bleeding or else I'll pass out! The screwdriver...I need it to shut off the intake valve!_

However, just as I'm scrambling to receive my tool hidden deep within my pocket...my attacker lunges forward again.

Eliwood exclaimed, "Lieutenant, watch out!"

 _!_

Clang!

I gasped. Eliwood had stepped forward and parried what would have been a fatal strike with his rapier. The swordsman's blade is red hot from the rough contact, but as the man strained to push forward into his opponent's shoulder, Eliwood uses a technical finesse move to manipulate his body weight onto the ground below. His elbow hits the dirt hard, but the sacaen gets back on his feet undeterred.

 _He...saved my_ life...

He grumbled, "Hmph! You're tougher than that guy over there, but you won't beat me! One day, I will become the greatest swordsman in all of Sacae!"

Eliwood replied, "Sacae? I have a good friend that comes from there. She's quite the frugal warrior...but I've never sparred with her. I wonder if you fight like her."

He was obviously talking about Lyn. By the way she was talking about her, it seemed like they'd improved their relationship while I was gone...

 _Good for her, Eliwood isn't like the rest of these pompous royals..._

The warrior scoffed, "Bah! I taught myself how to fight, and no one can copy my style. Better prepare yourself you red-haired lion. I'll give you a fight you'll regret!"

I look on as the two swordsmen ready their stances for another bout. Both of them were pretty much equal in strength, and I didn't know if Eliwood would win. I couldn't help my noble friend either; I'd lost about a pint of blood during my frantic attempt to close my gadget's intake valve, and the loss of mana neutered any attempt of offensive magic. I'm done fighting for the day, but Eliwood still had this swordsman and plenty of bandits between us and Boise.

I said, "Eliwood, it may be wise for us to retreat and let the knight deal with this. I can't assist in this battle, and I don't want to risk losing you in this battle."

Eliwood stares down his opponent. Hearing my request, he sighs and slowly sheathes his blade.

He said, "Very well, I will trust your judgement. Let us meet up with Marcus and Lowen at the nearby village. Erm...are you going to be all right?"

I nodded, "Yeah, you saved my life milord. You...have my thanks..."

Growing frustrated, the swordsman slams the tip of his blade into the grass.

He exclaimed, "Hey! I'm still here! I'm nowhere near done with you. Get your sword back out so we can fight!"

 _!_

"That won't be necessary."

Our company thief emerges from an unseen crevice underneath the bridge. He'd apparently been hiding there for Elimine knows how long, though I'd never given him the order...

 _Well, I told him to scout out for reconnaissance. I wonder if this was the implementation of that; I did give him a large degree of freedom._

The swordsman gets noticeably shaken from the sight of Matthew. His arms shiver, and he nearly drops his sword...

He said, "M-Matthew! What are you doing here?"

Matthew replied, "Ah, but I should be asking the same about yourself. What are you doing involving yourself with these scummy bastards? You should know better...you even cut off our poor tactician's hand. What the heck were you thinking, Guy?"

My hand beats with pain as the severed framework stains brown with crimson. Admittingly, it didn't hurt as much as the first time I lost it...though that didn't bring me any peace.

Guy said, "I-I needed the work. They're the only people that'll hire a Sacaen around these parts! What am I supposed to do about institutionalized racism, Matthew?! Tell me?!"

Matthew snickered, "Well, you can start by turning your swords on your _former_ employers. You'll be working for us now. You owe me, remember? You can't say no...your heritage says as much."

"..."

Guy sighs and motions towards the castle beyond the bridge. He said, "Ugh… damn you, Matthew. I finally find work, and now I have to throw it away. Fine. Help me deal with these arrogant bastards. They're all terrible, none of them have yet to beat me in a sparring match."

Guy sheathes his sword and walks in the castle's direction. Firmly pleased with himself, Matthew smiles and gives me a pat on the back.

He said, "You like that? It pays to have a man like around, Lieutenant."

I glared at him, "Don't touch me. I don't consider you my friend. This is nothing but a business relationship. Do not forget that."

Matthew replied, "Eh...I do apologize. Let's...go ahead and finish the mission, shall we?"

"Let's..."

* * *

 **Later...**

Boise leans over in pain as Eliwood extracted his blade from his shoulder. The towering, flamboyant man was now reduced to a gray shell of his former self, and death was near.

However, before expiring, he muttered one final sentence...

"You've beaten me…but you're too late to save him… Too…too bad, eh, laddie? Geha ha…geha!"

With those words echoing through our minds, we rush inside the castle to find a gruesome sight. In our quest to speak with Lord Helman, we'd finally be able to fulfill that request, but at the behest of something much more sinister.

We found him slumped and bleeding over his throne with a knife protruding from his back. Upon seeing this, Eliwood became distraught, and he rushed over to his side despite calls from Marcus to stay put. The man was at death's door, but he provided us with some important final words...

"Go to Laus...Darin knows all..."

"Please...beware of the Black Fang..."

The old man had said other things besides that, but I'm too shaken by his last phrase to care. He had mentioned the accursed name of that blasted organization, the same one that took away my little girl from me. The organization headed by the devil in a human's skin...Nergal...

 _Beware of the Black Fang..._

Those words glued to my mind like a sticky wad of molasses. Somehow, I sensed that the Black Fang were involved in this mess involving Lord Elbert. It was the only thing that made sense...

Now infused with a new injection of vigor, I clench Laniakea's locket firmly in my left hand. Marquess Ostia's was right in setting me up for this job. I won't rest until I avenge Alex and get my little girl back, even if means I have to kill this bastard sorcerer myself...

* * *

 **A/N: Welcome to the end! I've been...wondering if I can ask y'all a favor. Soon I'm going to drop a poll asking some...pretty monumental questions to my viewer base. I'll be basing how the rest of story goes based on those questions, including Sam's spouse, certain characters classes, and the nature of the ending. I'd like to write this story to y'all's taste, so if you want a voice in this 50 chapter series than go ahead and vote. I'll start them next week, go look in my profile for info.**

 **I won't consider any poll valid unless there are at least 15 submissions.**


	54. Shocking Revelation

**Chapter 49: Shocking Revelation**

 **By SodiumChlouride12, derived from Fire Emblem, owned by Nintendo**

 **A/N: Y'all ready for a bombshell? No? Too bad, you're getting one!**

 **On an unrelated note, I've changed the cover for the last time. It'll make sense in a couple of chapters.**

 **N: Samuel hasn't had a decent night of sleep in very long time. The visions keep him up at night, with each new iteration increasing in strength. What do these visions mean? Do they serve a larger purpose?**

* * *

 **?...**

 _Here I am again..._

 _Why do they keep bringing me back here?_

I've returned to the mystical sanitarium occupying this subspace within the confines of the void. I may be in the same building, but looking at my environment it's clear I'm at a different part of it. Gone were the sofas, cots, and televisions inhabiting a habitable living space. In its place where a series of winding hallways flanked by an endless line of paintings hanging on opposing white cobblestone walls.

Keeping my guard up, I observe the paintings with my keen eyes. They appear to display the likenesses of a plethora of different human beings, but I could not make out any of their identities. Their faces were all clouded with a fog of blur, an annoying sight my eyes were needy of ocular assistance.

Already weirded out, I slowly and hesitantly walk down the hall. The air is still like an unbothered body of water, but the lack of ventilation didn't feel suffocating. Instead, my chest calmly rises and exhales healthily… however I still can't rest easy. As minutes turned into hours, the hallway didn't appear to be any closer to ending, and the surrounding paintings stay on their elevated position...as if mocking me for my attempts at escape.

 _What is going here?!_

Frustrated, I slam my hand onto the wall. Then, I do it again. I repeat this over and over until my right pinky gets bent from all the excess force. Wiping laborious sweat from my eyes, I silently curse myself for having let my emotions get out of hand, but this also had the unintended effect of tearing a hole through the wall...

Curious, I peek through the opening. Unexpectedly, I notice yet _another_ hallway hidden behind this facade of stone, though this time a steel door is visible at its end. Figuring that at this point I had nothing to lose, I again clench my fist and bludgeon my way through the wall. It comes at the cost of my ring finger, but at least now I had a sliver of hope for escape.

 _Okay, let's see where this door goes to._

Holding my breath, I open the door...

"What the hell..."

I'd opened the door of a grand throne room, which made little sense since the steel door I'd just opened was nowhere near in size as the towering behemoths residing over this place. I'm struck with a sensation of bewilderment, and I walk through to the end of the room observing the simple yet beautiful extravagance befitting of a royal family. A lime green carpet comfortable hugged the soles of my boots, colorful banners adorned the high walls, and stained glass windows let in colorful light. The beautiful sight is enough to put me at ease, though it soon became clear this place was anything but safe.

Overlooking the entire area is a trio of stone thrones similar in style to the one I saw at Mt. Merki. I infer that these things were in place to respect the authority of a King, Queen, and a Prince/Princess, though neither of those individuals were present. What was present is a single skeleton in the garbs of a royal sitting on the center throne, and its mouth gapes open like some vain cry for help.

 _These dreams keep get weirder and weirder._

Disregarding the old proverb that "curiosity killed the cat", I approach the skeleton to get a better look. The regalia it's wearing was fairly impressive, with the lush green robes reminding me of the beautiful prairie grasses of Sacae. Its boots were constructed from the finest leather, and its gold crown-

 _!_

 _Oh my God, is that..._

 _The royal insignia of House Caelin?!_

Taking a step back, I'm overwhelmed with a crushing feeling of familiarity. The whole place swirls around like some mystical tornado of truth...and then it clicks. The lime green carpet, the colorful banners, the green robes worn by the skeletal royal. How hadn't I seen this sooner?!

I'm in the royal throne room of Castle Caelin. The skeleton presiding over this empty coffin of a place is Lord Hausen...Lyn's grandfather.

"..."

I keel over onto the ground and nearly lose my lunch. This sensation of disgust is unlike anything I'd ever felt before, though unsurprising given my path of misery. In all my years I'd never touched someone's skeletal remains; it was considered taboo amongst my superstitious family.

 _Who...whose responsible for this?!_

"Ah...you've returned. I see you've discovered my former patient. He...was a failure unfortunately."

That raspy, slightly French sounding voice is one I could identify from a mile away. It belonged to that blasted plague doctor, the same that kept on preaching about an apparent infestation of "Pestilence".

I push down the bile creeping up my throat. Consumed with anger, I vigorously clench my fist and turn to face this crazed maniac.

I said, "You...you killed him? What the hell is wrong with you?! He's just an old man...a perfectly healthy old man with his granddaughter looking over him!"

Speaking my peace, the plague doctor doesn't react. He continues to glare at me through his dissociating mask, oblivious or even uncaring of my emotional outburst.

He said, "He rejected my cure, so the Pestilence killed him. It affects you too young man...please allow me to rid you of your ailment."

He steps forward and reaches out with his gloved hand to grab me, but I reject him. I quickly evade his grasp and retreat towards a nearby ceremonial piece of armor, grabbing the small rapier resting in between its thumbs.

I exclaimed, "No! Back off...I'm warning you! I don't want your stupid cure you damn lunatic!"

The plague doctor looks at my weapon and then shakes his head disapprovingly. Even with his best efforts, even he knew he couldn't do anything now. At least...not alone...

Snap!

The doctor snaps his fingers...

I said, "Hey! What do you think you're doing?!"

Stone-faced, he replies, "You're being a rather uncooperative patient. I have to admit, I can't work with that sword in the way. Luckily for me, my attendant should be able to take care of that for me."

"Your attendant?"

"..."

I hear the pitter-patter of approaching footsteps come through the hallway. They sounded lady-like, yet robotic. I pause in a combination of both fear and intrigue, unsure of what was about to come through that door...

Creeeek!

 _Oh, you've got to be sh*ing me._

A women peers at me, and my eyes wander around her familiar figure...

 _Lyn?!_

Her green hair...that unique nomadic dress. There's no doubt in my mind that this was her...but something was off. Very off.

 _!_

"..."

I'm...paralyzed. There was no way this could be true. Have...my worst fears been realized?

"..."

The plague doctor said, "What's wrong? Something about my attendant catch your eye?"

"..."

"What...what have you done to her?"

The doctor taps his cane menacingly on the stone floor. His shoulders tense up in a light bout of anxiety, and observing his nurse patiently, he sighs with relief. No signs of the Pestilence... _thankfully_...

He said, "I...she's cured of the Pestilence. She no longer has to worry about the pain of dying..."

Lyn continues to glare at me...but now those green orbs had since changed into a shade of sinking gold. The warmth and life that used to vibrate within them disappeared with her life, and her clammy skin simmers gray with death. She...she's dead. Turned into a morph by this fraud doctor.

 _You...you bastard!_

The anger writhing within me boils my blood red hot. How...how could he do this to a sweet girl like Lyn? She was so graceful and caring for her friends, and her heart of gold brought joy upon everyone that knew her. I will admit, she did have her faults along with the problems we shared in the past, but that didn't lessen the train wreck brought upon my soul. I used to call this woman my beloved...my beating heart.

Now, it was like that very organ was being torn from my body.

I snapped at him, "You've turned her into one of your _cured_ _husks of magic?! What the hell is wrong with you! One's humanity is sacred...and should not be tampered with. I...I..."_

The doctor cuts me off, then snickers like a villain.

He said, "You loved her...didn't you?"

"..."

Those words cut through my skin like it's made of paper. That question is one I easily knew the answer for...but I did not have the strength to answer it. My reluctance to admit my past failures is something I struggle to deal with, especially when involving a person I feel so conflicted about.

I said, "It's...none of your business."

The doctor replies, "You may be right about that, but I could careless about your heart. Lyn no longer has the burdens of past relationships holding her down, and now she will allow me cure the last carrier of the Pestilence."

"..."

Holding back tears, I silently raise my weapon. I will not let this doctor do to me what he did to Lyndis. I have too much to live for. I need to continue on...for my little girl.

I said, "I don't know nor do I care for the Pestilence. All I want is my freedom from your influence. Get the hell out of my head you damn necrophile!"

Ignoring me like I was some inconsiderate child, he spat at me, "It matters not that you are armed. Nurse...take care of him for me."

Lyn...or what's left of her silently nods and draws her weapon. I look on with dismay as she takes on the same stance she always took when we sparred, the same one she defeated me with countless times. A ripple of fear again ruptures through my consciousness as we prepare to engage in brutal combat.

I said, "Lyn...I'm so sorry. I really...I really wish things could've turned out better!"

"..."

 _!_

She disappears into thin air, and I'm left scanning the area for any sign of her. Even in death her speed was still something to be mindful of, but if I could j-

 _!_

 _I couldn't even finish my thought..._

A swift pain penetrates my neck. I'm terrified to look down, but my peripheral vision catches the silhouette of a matte steel sword protruding from a mess of human tissue. _My_ human tissue...

 _I lost...again..._

I fall onto my knees as the doctor erupts into maniacal laughter. My knees were quickly growing wet with my crimson, and the strength in each were diminishing by the second. Nearing death, I fall onto the ground with an anticlimactic thud, and my face rests flat against the stone floor.

 _I'm too weak. It's as simple as that...I'm too weak..._

The doctor said, "Ga hahahha! Good work my pet, we now have another subject to make our tests on. Come, let us make the preparations while expires..."

"Lyn..."

With my last strength, I look out towards the girl that had at one point been the subject of so many of my dreams. I reach out hoping she'd grab on so that we could share one final moment together between the realms of life and death. However, such a beautiful scene never came. Lyn turns her back on me and obediently walks away with her master, her step unfeeling like the blade that had just killed me.

Feeling numb, I close my eyes and wait to bleed out. In this crucial moment, I'm left with an absence of everything but my thoughts. Thoughts that I'd inevitably forget...

 _Is this death?_

 _..._

 _I don't want to die. Please, I want to save Lani..._

 _If this is a vision warning me of the future, then I know Lyn's in danger. I...I w-want to save her too..._

 _But...can I? I'm not...strong...enough..._

 _..._

 _Not strong enough..._

* * *

I wake up that night feeling sicker than a dog. The migraine destroying my forehead is borderline unbearable, but I disregard that as a consequence of my mere existence. Instead, I focus on the unexplainable nausea centered around my stomach, though I can't do much about that because I already feel compelled to vomit.

 _!_

I rush out my tent into the nearby forest. Even with my low energy, I still create some distance between myself and the camp. After a brief sprint, I finally reach a point I'm content with, and I keel over by a bush and do the deed...

 _!_

 _Is this...blood?_

No bile leaves my throat. In its place is a slow stream of blood... _my blood_. I keep hacking and gagging for several minutes, and by the time I finish a pint of my murky blood laid soaking into the warm earth.

The sight shocks me to the point of disorientation. This is a disease...far beyond the severity of anything else I'd ever seen. But was it fair to call it that? Spontaneous blood loss isn't a symptom that comes alone, at least not with the diseases of my world or this one. It's more something you'd see with an injury or a complication following the loss of some internal organ. I didn't know the answer...nor is it likely I ever could. My expertise is in the manner of engineering and warfare, not of disease control.

Huh?

I stand up and wipe some excess liquid from my lip. Other than the migraine, I now feel healthy. This "condition" went away as soon as it came, though I'm filled with unexplainable questions…

Walking back towards the camp, I try to recall the dream proceeding this painful episode. I remember some vague haze of conflict among a scene of familiarity, and the meeting with someone I held deep within my heart. I remember the sight of the same plague doctor I had seen in several of my dreams, along with a blow that graced my neck...

 _This dream took place in the void. I think...in this case some damage I took in that realm carried over into this one. Maybe that's why I started coughing up blood without cause..._

That was a good theory, but I couldn't prove it. The void is an unpredictable realm of chaos whose rules changed on a whim. There's only three rules that stayed consistent in the void, one of which was the _law of transistence..._

The _law_ of transistence was something I read about in the library of Castle Ostia. It states that although the void treats everyone differently and with changing intensity, all "voidwalkers" can leave and enter the realm as long as they are conscious. This can allow someone like me to avoid danger in the void as long as I am conscious...if it weren't for one thing. I...do not know how to control my power.

As of right now, I can only access the void by chance in my dreams. I'm sure there's a way for me to enter that realm in a controllable manner, but the only being capable of teaching me died at Azazel's hands. Not that she was in the state of mind of helping me out, but the loss of information still stings.

 _!_

Peering through the forest, I spot the small flame of our campfire. Two silhouettes stand huddled by it, which was surprising given the time. Perhaps they had trouble sleeping like myself, or maybe they found the Caelic wilderness unappealing to sleep in.

 _I think it's clear that I'm not going to be able to go back to sleep. It doesn't hurt to talk to these guys though, as long as one of them isn't Matthew._

I make my way towards them, but stop short when I realize their identities. Eliwood and Hector were speaking alone about some unknown subject; I wondered if interrupting would be considered rude. I stay out of sight and eavesdrop on their conversation, concluding that I'd only enter if the opportunity presented itself.

Hector said, "So this is what Caelin looks like, you think we ought to present ourselves to Lord Hausen?"

Eliwood shakes his head, "I don't think that's necessary. We're just passing through, and I don't see the need. I am curious about how Lyndis is doing, though..."

I'm about to let myself out when I hear Lord Eliwood mention Lyn's name. Whether it be from sheer curiosity or the desire to see how's she acclimating to her new life, I stay put.

Hector said, "Oh, her. I remember hearing about how she dealt with Lundgren last year. I do believe several of our nationals were involved as well. Didn't you have a hand in that too?"

Eliwood nodded, "Mhm."

Hector smiles, and then playfully wraps his arm around Eliwood like an older cousin would to their younger counterpart. From the looks of it, Hector wasn't lying when he claimed at he and Eliwood were good friends.

But...it was these next few words that really swept me from my feet.

He said, "And? The granddaughter? Is she a beauty?"

Eliwood's face turns red with embarrassment. He replied, "A beauty? Well...she's...I don't. I'll have to admit..."

Hearing Eliwood stammer over his words sends a teaspoon of...jealousy through me. Biting my lip, I stomach these feelings and continue to listen silently.

Hector laughs, "Hahaha! A powerful warrior and a beauty? You've really outdone yourself, Eliwood"

 _Outdone yourself?_

Eliwood squeaked, "I...don't know what you're talking about."

Hector says, "Don't try hiding it from me, boy. Come on, you and I both know that you're courting her. I've heard as much from city gossip!"

 _!_

Scrambling for words, he replied, "I...we...you have a mis-"

"Hold your tongue, do you hear that?"

Confused, Eliwood said, "Hear what?"

"The sound in those trees, I could've sworn I heard something..."

Hector takes his axe and walks over to the source of the sound. He pushes aside a small bush and sighs.

He said, "Huh. I guess my ears are playing games with me..."

* * *

"..."

"Arrrrrgh!"

I clench my fist and send it head on with a nearby tree. The metallic bludgeon ricochets off the timber seamlessly, doing little but chipping off some bark along with scratching the paint.

I'm somewhere in the forest surrounding our camp, about two miles away. Unable to deal with the despair, jealousy, and anger swirling through my system, I took my cocktail of emotions and reasoned give this tree a piece of my mind. In hindsight, it sounds fairly stupid when thinking about it out loud, but right now it was the only outlet I could muster at this time of gloom and doom.

Swearing underneath my breath, I take my bent up hand and lean against the tree I'd just punched. That whole fit did its job in making me feel better, though not by much. Those words Hector said continued to echo in my mind, with the oscillating pain never lowering with every repetition.

 _"Come on, you and I both know that you and Lyn share a courting relationship."_

"Arrrrrgh!"

I go at it with the tree again, this time using both of my hands. I keep punching the timber until both my right hand and the log were bare, and then with one final blow...

Wwwwwsh! Crash!

I chop the small tree in two, and the tall structure falls onto the ground with a mighty crash. I look over the thing like it's my fallen prey, and I'm too all in over my head to see the blood pouring from my left hand...

"You know, there are easier ways to chop down trees."

 _!_

The voice came from the veil of darkness. Taking on a defensive stance, I draw my red dagger and ready myself for battle.

I exclaimed, "Who goes there! I'll have you know I'm a _very_ dangerous man!"

"Aye! You call yourself a man, yet you're over there acting like a child. Stand down, it's us Lieutenant!"

 _Us?_

Wincing my eyes, I spy Dorcas and Bartre clearing their way into my line of sight. Both men had bags under eyes, along with their respective weapons slung over their shoulders.

I said, "Dorcas and Bartre! What are you two here?!"

Dorcas replied, "You assigned us for midnight duty. Don't you remember?"

 _!_

I...didn't. Yet another lapse of judgement in an ever increasing tally.

I said, "W-well what do you want? Do you need something from me?"

Bartre said, "Why be so hostile, Kenan? We were walking by when we heard your screaming. You sounded really upset...we just want to talk if you'll have us."

Admittingly, my tone of voice is unacceptably agitated. It was wrong for me to raise my voice against my own allies, and realizing such, I calm myself down.

I said, "Y-Yeah, my apologies. If you two can do me the honor, I'd like to impart on your wisdom. As a younger fellow to two from an older generation."

Fortunately for me, if I were to talk to anyone about my problems, these two would be the most ideal people for the job. Being 30 and 24 years of age respectively, these two guys had plenty of wisdom regarding women problems. In addition, my relationship with Dorcas was never particularly tight, and add to this my nonexistent one with Bartre...then this resulted in two people that had minimal knowledge of Mark/Samuel. I could spew information knowing I was at little risk of being found out...within reason.

Dorcas said, "Very well, what's on your mind my man?"

I clear my throat and take out a flask full of whiskey. I drink a small shot, which was just enough to numb the pain my hand just a little bit, but not enough to compromise my reasoning.

I said, "What...what do you do when a girl you love doesn't love you anymore?"

Dorcas raised his brow, "Someone break your heart? You have my condolences."

Bartre added, "Mine too."

I replied, "Er...thank you. But, yeah I guess you could say someone broke my heart. It's...complicated though. We never really formally broke up, but months of separation kinda cemented it. I got a new girlfriend and took on the care of a little girl...I thought I moved on..."

Dorcas said, "Yet you're here."

I nodded, "Yeah. I...I put my memories with her in the back of my mind. You could say I was too occupied with other worries to bother, but I recently found out I wasn't the only one that attempted to find a new love. She...she's being courted by a fine gentleman of high regard. He's everything that I'm not. Rich, handsome, humble, and reputable..."

Feeling defeated, I lift my hood to ruffle my curly white hair. Some strands turn black from the metallic residue rubbing against them.

I said, "It's no wonder she took a liking to him. He's...he's perfect..."

I lower my head in silence. I couldn't be angry at Eliwood for this. In these past few weeks we've known each other, he'd treated me and the others with nothing but respect and kindness. Hell, I'm sure _I'd_ want him for boyfriend if I took a liking to guys; it's a shame I'm neither gay nor female.

 _That's a weird thought. I'm just going to...pretend this never happened._

Dorcas said, "This man, you seem to hold him in high regard. Is he your friend?"

"..."

Did...did I consider Eliwood my friend? He's a member of the royal class, an exclusive club that, in my opinion, exploited the commoners for their worth. However, the more and more I interact with this red-haired noble, the more I realize that he does not have ill intentions at heart. Witnessing him offer his resources to save Rebecca's life [a citizen of Pharae] showed me he truly kept his people in high respect, which is a quality lacking even amongst the democracy of my old homeland.

One could even argue I had no right to think ill of him. He saved my life a few days ago...

 _I suppose that complicates things..._

I sighed, "Yeah, you could say he's my friend."

Dorcas rubs his chin in thought. After a few seconds, he replied, "I see. Would you say that your ex is fortunate to be in a relationship with your friend?"

"Y-Yeah...I would."

Dorcas shakes his head, "Then I don't see what the problem is. Two people that you care about are happy with one another. You should feel grateful that your ex could move on from you after such a tumultuous time. Focus on your relationship with your niece and new SO...and I can guarantee you will move on."

"..."

Bartre frowns when he sees my posture slump. He can't see my eyes, but if he could he would have seen the life drain from them within an instant.

He said somberly, "Did something happen?"

"I...used to live in Illia, and we had a nice little cabin out by the mountains. One day, some men came over set my home ablaze. On their way out they took my niece...and killed my girlfriend too."

"..."

Damning silence fills the air. Bright, vivid memories of the flames engulfing my home burns through my mind like some persistent plague that refused to rid itself. It's like my heart is being ripped out of my chest. Episodes like these usually came when I was idle or trying to go to sleep, but they were strongest at times like now.

Dorcas said, "I...I had no idea. I'm so terr-"

"It's okay, I'm fine. I've already spent a month in mourning, I don't need to spend another. Please...I...don't require pity."

"…"

Bartre said, "Kenan, that water coming out of your mask. Are...you crying?"

Feeling shameful, I turn around to let the liquid drip in peace. I'm unable to wipe it off naturally with my hand.

I said, "I don't know what you're talking about. Men don't cry..."

Dorcas said, "Whoever told you that is either lying or not human."

"Eh?"

He nodded, "Traditionally, they expect us men to be stronger of the two sexes. We're supposed to hold any and all pain well within our hearts, as if doing so will eliminate it. However, off our personal experiences, we can see this is not the case. Our pent up misery will eventually morph into aggression, which will come out in the form of abuse towards our loved ones or ourselves. That's why it's important to have an outlet for that, whether it be in private or with other respectful souls."

"I...see..."

I take a deep breath and sigh. The memories were now fading away to my periphery, and I feel a lot better.

I said, "Thank you, really. I think...I know what I need to do now."

Dorcas smiles. Evidently, he never expected to provide me with the solution to my problems himself. It was my duty and my duty alone to discover that for myself, and I think I've just arrived to my final conclusion.

He said, "Care to flatter me with the details? I'll let you know if it sounds within the realm of possibility."

I nodded, "Yeah. I...realize now that I'm straying too much from my goal. To recover my niece and return her to safety. Anything else is secondary to this...and you're right. I should be happy for L-"

 _Calm down there cowboy..._

I pretend to cough and continue...

"I...should be happy she found someone nice. I'm sure they'll be perfect for each other. I'll move on...and maybe get back to looking for women after I get my little girl back. I'll...yeah...that's my goal!"

Overtaken with new resolve, I raise my bloodied hand in the air. My two audience members clap in congratulatory fashion, and I feel a sense of appreciation for my newfound friends.

 _Heh...pity. I should've spoken to Dorcas more in the past. Him and Bartre are both pals..._

Bartre said, "I'm glad for you, Lieutenant! May your burgeoning strength take you past never before seen bounds!"

Dorcas nodded, "Indeed. Let's go back to camp and get that hand wrapped up."

Feeling a sting of pain, I happily agree, "Yeah! Let's go!"

We start walking our way back. While we do so, Dorcas reminisces over previous adventures over his life. Eventually, the topic comes over to our time fighting under Lyn's Legion...and he brings forward a question that nearly gives me a heart attack.

He asked, "Say, Lieutenant. Do you know a man named Samuel?"

 _Samuel? Sh* does he know?!_

I nearly trip on a branch. Balancing between life and death, I _somehow_ keep my composure.

I said, "Samuel? I do not know what you mean. Is he a friend of yours?"

He shakes his head, "No, just an acquaintance. It's just that your accent sounds a bit similar to his. I was thinking you two grew up in the same village."

This took me by surprise. Ever since my meeting with Uther, I'd switched my natural southern accent to a midwestern one I used to flaunt in my younger years. The change in voice was enough to fool everyone but my closest friends, though apparently a little bit of that twang stuck around to make Dorcas suspicious.

 _Stay cool, Sam. Don't lose...your...bearings..._

I cooly replied, "No, but he may have grew in a neighborhood near to me. My accent is specific to a single borough in Carazan, so it's unsurprising that we never knew each other."

This is a half-truth. In Carazan, the place was so urbanized that whole communities formed within the packed neighborhoods, and often people would live their entire lives without speaking to a fellow from the street over. That was the truth, what wasn't is the identity of Kenan Vacia, which cradled within the realm of fiction.

Luckily, it was enough to fool Dorcas.

He said, "I see, small world it is then. Let's get on our way th-"

Suddenly, a scream rips through the calm forest.

"Aaaaaah! Noooooo!"

I wasn't sure if the voice was male or female, but regardless it didn't matter. A person nearby is under attack, and what other group can help but us?

Dorcas said, "Ah great. These guys just won't leave us alone, do they?"

Bartre laughed, "Hahaha! Why the sorry face, Dorcas? Now's the time to crack some skulls...!"

* * *

 **Later...**

The peddler Merlinus. He's a merchant with...a peculiar cyan-blue haircut. Not the most aggressive of souls, he found himself chased by a convoy of bandits for several hours, ultimately finding himself for cornered with fleeting hopes of survival...

"Ohhhhh nooooo! Someone help!"

Enter us. Quickly mobilizing our forces, we hurry over and confront the bandits led by the bruiser Puzon.

Lifting my hand through the darkness, my magical purple flame illuminates a small radius around myself, Eliwood, Merlinus, and Puzon. The latter has the merchant interlocked in a vicious chokehold, and our red-haired lord beckons him to release his hostage.

He exclaimed, "Let that man go!"

His swiftly draws his weapon, clearly ready for a fight. But I don't give him a chance to prove himself. I'm too fearful of what this strong-looking fellow could do to my friend, so in a bout of anxiety I elect to use my final spell slot for the day...

" _Pulvis ex igni summam potestatem ades!"_

A hurried (and admittingly under-prepared) fireball screeches through the air. It _narrowly_ breezes over Puzon's head, and upon hitting the ground explodes into a mighty display of strength. The crater is bigger than anything else I'd ever concocted before, though this was more likely a result of adrenaline than pure growth.

I silently swear under my breath after wasting the last vestige of my mana. However, not all was lost. The spell spooks Puzon well enough that he lets go of Merlinus, and we grab the vulnerable merchant to put him under our protection...

 _!_

I fall onto the ground feeling a tingling sensation in my fingers. Between the spell and my earlier blood loss, I'd lost so much mana that the initial symptoms of Mana Deprivation took its toll. What followed next was nausea, a headache, and a copious amount of pain.

Eliwood exclaimed, "Lieutenant! Are you okay?"

I shake my head, "N-No. Zero chance I'll be able to do something like that again."

Emboldened, Puzon exclaimed, "Aye! Quite the klutz aren't you? We won't let you all get in the way of our riches! Everyone, kill them all!"

Snickering as he disappears into the darkness, he retreats to the back line of his band of bandits.

Meanwhile, I'm still on the ground an inch from writhing in pain. Standing nearby, Eliwood and the others are unsure on how they could help...if they could.

Eliwood said, "Lieutenant, why did you do that? I was perfectly capable of handling him on my own."

He...had a fair point. I've seen him do nothing but hold his own for the duration of this journey. He'd even saved my life recently. Yet, seeing him face off against a much larger foe brought an impulsive burst of _fear_ that I felt compelled to act on. In that moment of uncertainty, I disregarded the years of professional training Eliwood underwent and focused on visual intangibles. I...acted on my emotions. In doing so, I inadvertently put myself under avoidable pain and misery.

I said, "I...I got nervous, milord. Mmmph...I feel bad. Really bad."

I hear the sounds of approaching hooves hitting the dry dirt. They came from Lowen and Marcus, with the latter shaking his head and the former frowning.

Marcus said, "Milord! I heard noise, and I was fearing you were hurt. Now I see that is not the case...but..."

Concealing his slight annoyance from the blatant protectionism expressed towards him, he simply nods.

He said, "I'm fine. Unfortunately, I think the Lieutenant may have knocked himself out of commission here."

Lowen sighed, "Very well. I will take him to the rear where he will be protected by myself and Rebecca."

"..."

"No."

Gritting my teeth, I stand up under my own power. I...could not stand with the decision.

Lowen said, "Lieutenant, you mustn't force yourself. Serra has informed us of the dangers of MD. You could kill yourself."

I shake my head, "N-No. I've fought injured before, and I won't shy away from it again. You guys need your tactician, especially now since visibility is poor. Just...let me serve in a supporting role. I'll be the brain for today, and you guys will be my sword and shield."

Eliwood protested, "But if you die then how will we be able to fight going forward? Surely you've thought of that?"

I replied, "But what if you die, Lord Eliwood? Hell, what if anyone dies? I won't be able to sleep at night knowing that a single life could've been saved by me being here. I won't risk that, not on my soul."

Eliwood pauses and closed his eyes. This was a little quirk I picked up from him, and he usually did it when trying to think about a difficult decision. The rest of us waited patiently, dying in anticipation for his response.

[Speech check: Passed]

He said, "Well, I suppose you argue a good case. You can stay, but do not engage unless it's in self defense. Also, I will assign Lowen as your bodyguard. Do not make me regret my decision."

I smiled and gave myself a mental high five. My speech prevented me from missing out on yet another battle...and now it'll be used so we can win it...

I musn't disappoint.

* * *

 **Later...**

Overwhelmed with exhaustion, Lowen and I make our way through the forest back to the main camp. Our clothes and armor were torn, and the horse had his tongue sticking out like a dog. The three of us were on the end of a rather long day, and our beds in the camp ahead were awfully inviting.

The battle went well. With Lowen riding me around like my own personal Uber, we spun around between each individual flank so I could bark out orders. These undisciplined troops were worthless against our coordinated men and women, and they caved in immediately after we pulled off a textbook pincer maneuver. Their leader Puzon turned out to be quite the warrior, but even he couldn't stand to survive against two armored knights.

I look out towards the small flame visible through the darkness and smile. That whole excursion was just...so _easy_. Our foes thus far consisting of only the most incompetent bandits, and usually I can just rely on our talent alone to win us these battles. I wonder if all our fights would be like this...or if this was just the outer rain band to a much stronger hurricane.

 _I won't know till later. For now, I should just focus on my body..._

My body still feels painful to move around, so I asked my honorable friend to drop me off by the medical tent. Serra is there alone trying to get some shut-eye as nobody in our army was seriously injured.

I said, "Erm...Serra?"

"Zzzzz..."

Lowen rolled his eyes, "Serra! Breakfast is ready!"

"Snork?!"

Serra drowsily opens her eyes, and looks at both me and my companion. Her strewn out pink hair resembles a fuzzy ball of cotton, and she frowns when her eyes meet mine.

She said, "Oh, it's you."

Our relationship was strained ever since our incursion several days ago. We'd shoot each other weird glances and half-hearted greetings...though it was more out of awkward habit than animosity. I don't think she actually hates me, and I don't either.

I said, "I hope I'm not disturbing you, but I'm suffering through some MD right now."

"Ugh…"

Realizing she has to work, she gets up and motions me over to a chair. She beckons Lowen to leave and get some rest, and soon enough it's just us.

She said, "Okay, I still have some leftover mana from the battle earlier. I'm going to give you some and you should feel better."

 _Huh, that's strange. She's nowhere near as conceited and annoying like before. She's almost...approachable._

I replied, "That'd be amazing. I don't know why I hadn't thought of that before. Say...Serra isn't your birthday a week from today?"

I take out my watch to show her it was about 1 am. The day is July 4th; Independence Day in my old world but any regular day in this reality.

Serra's face goes bright red, and she said, "Y-Yeah! How did you know? I don't recall telling you about it."

I chucked, "You were hootin' and hollering about it all day on the trail. It's hard to miss with that voice of yours."

She said, "What are you insinuating, Lieutenant?"

I replied, "I'm just saying that sometimes you _might_ be a little too loud for others to handle. I think if you spoke like this all the time, you'd find yourself much more likeable. Besides, I think with a little training you could really turn out to be a decent soprano."

"Soprano?"

I nodded, "Yeah, they're singers with really high voice. Your relaxed voice is already fairly pleasant to the ear, and I think you could do it."

"..."

Serra goes dead silent. Her eyes water, and I wonder if I had said something wrong.

I said, "Serra...did I offend you? I'm sorry if I d-"

She shakes her head, "No. You...did quite the opposite actually. That...was a compliment wasn't it? I'm not used to those."

Hearing those words hurt me on a personal level. In speaking to her, I realize that deep down that maybe there was more to Serra than the annoying persona she exhibited towards the public. Maybe, deep down our bouncy pink-haired cleric had a pained heart...something that would need to be healed in order to give dawn to a much more beautiful human being.

But, before I could dig deeper, Serra interjects.

She said, "No...forget about it. Just...give me your hand. I want to get this over with so I can take a bath in peace."

I said, "Oh? So I see you like to stay clean?"

Serra smiled, "Yeah, how else do you think I stay looking this beautiful?"

I chuckled, "Fair point."

"Come here…"

She grabs my left hand and began reciting a chant for whose words I could not comprehend. Her face contorts slightly from the discomfort, and I feel an increase in warmth between our grasp...

But...I feel nothing else.

She lets go of my hand and looks down on hers. It was cherry red from heat, as with mine. She looks confused, and my heart drops.

She said, "That's odd, its never been that hot before. Lieutenant, do you feel any different?"

I shake my head, "No, it's like my body rejected the mana back to your palm. I...think the magical energy converted to thermal energy. Had we kept holding hands any further and I think I could have seriously burnt you."

Serra agreed, "Yeah, that's so unusual. I've never seen anything like it. When I went to school, my teacher told me mana transfer worked between all humans."

"..."

 _My goose is cooked. Can homunculi and humans not share mana? I could've sworn that I would've read that on the encyclopedi-_

Suddenly, a memory comes to mind.

 _Chapter 6, Paragraph 13:_

 _Due to differing mana circuits, humans and homunculi cannot take part in mana transfers. Doing so will only cause rejection by the recipient, resulting in a burn if they transferred a copious amount of mana._

 _Oh sh*!_

A wave of uncertainty washes over Serra's face. She speaks to me in a tone that is borderline fearful.

She said, "Lieutenant, just what are you?"

A bead of anxious sweat drips down the side of my face. There was no way I could lie out of this one. Serra is just one moment away from realizing that I'm not human, and once she does she'll inform the rest of the army. Once she does that...it's over.

 _By Elimine, what do I do?!_

I grip the dagger hidden within my cloak. I could kill her...and then claim ignorance when they find her body in a ditch. No...I can't do that! Serra's my ally...I mean she's not my friend but we're close to it! But what about Lani?! If they kill me then no one will rescue her! There's no r-

Serra said, "Oh, Lieutenant do you happen to be colorblind?"

Through the ocean of darkness, I spy a single lifeline. Grateful for the help, I take it.

I replied, "Y-Yeah! So what?"

Serra breathes in a sigh of relief, "Thank goodness, you had me scared there. Two colorblind mages cannot transfer mana. I don't know why, but I do remember my teacher mentioning this."

 _If this isn't divine intervention. Then I don't know what is._

I said, "That explains it then. In that case, I'll just sleep this off. To my tent I go then, good night and thanks!"

I make my leave before Serra can get anymore suspicious of me. She's left there with an open mind and sinking gut...unsure of what to do.

She muttered, "Odd guy. I wonder what's underneath that mask though. He's...a little charming I have to admit."

Meanwhile, I wander through the darkness with worry occupying my conscious. The surrounding air is silent, save for the occasional chirping from grasshoppers...

 _That was a close call. My second one today, my third all time..._

 _How long am I going to dance with death until I'm finally had? I need to be more careful from now on. I need to be prepared._ _Besides, I have a feeling today's my last time on the training wheels. If I'm going to survive, I'll have to be a much better dancer..._

 _No more surprise close calls. Next time, I'll be ready..._


	55. Violent Reunion

**Chapter 50: Violent Reunion**

 **By SodiumChloride12, derived from Fire Emblem, owned by Nintendo.**

 **A/N: Wow, I got two reviews on my birthday. This...is amazing! I'm going to definintly take many of that person's suggestions to heart, starting with the summary. I'll spent this weekend fixing it.**

 **N: In order to understand the present...one must understand the past first...**

* * *

 **Six months ago...**

It's a rainy day in Castle Laus. The torrential rainfall bears down on the structure's roof like a never-ending stream of marbles and liquid drips through the leaky roof. Gravity brings it down onto the forehead of a big-nosed, purple-haired individual; whom didn't take a liking to his home's shoddy construction.

Darin said, "Bah! I told the mason to fix that ages ago!"

Darin was in his personal study, but he's not alone. Accompanying him were Ephidel and Marquess Pharae, the honorable Lord Elbert. Lord Elbert is a red-haired fellow with a tall frame and average build, though his magnificent mustache was truly a sight to behold...

Elbert said, "Don't worry about it, Darin. The dripping adds a little to the scenery in a way. It reminds me of an old cabin I used to frequent in my younger years."

Darin laughed, "Aye, I think I remember you taking me there once. If I recall, you spent your honeymoon with Eleanora in that little cabin."

Elbert blushed, "Eh- How about we refrain from straying from the subject matter. How goes the plan for the republic?"

Elbert was referring to the plan to replace the Lycian Alliance with his brainchild, the Lycian Republic. It is a new method of government that allocated some democratic elements into the current alliance system. In it, the Lycian city-states would join into a greater union under the rule of a single royal executive elected from the ranks of the marquesses. It will be a more peaceful and equal relationship when compared to the current system, though unpopular by the current overlord of the Lycian Alliance, Marquess Ostia.

Darin said, "It's going well. I've sent messengers to all the lords in the land. I take that you find that favorable?"

Elbert nodded, "Indeed...but I have to ask, just who is this fellow sitting silently by the fire? He's...I find him very..."

Ephidel stands up and glares at Lord Pharae with his golden eyes. The sight sends an aura of unease down his spine...

He said, "I apologize if you find me aesthetically unpleasing, Milord. However, I can reassure you I'll be nothing but help towards your cause."

 _Our cause?_

Elbert shoots a glance at Darin, his eyes gleaming with annoyance.

He said, "Lord Laus, what is the meaning of this? I joined this movement understanding that we'll be undertaking this task _ourselves_. We do not need foreign entities interfering with our affairs!"

Darin protested, "Please don't fret my friend. The Black Fang is a noble organization, they'll serve as our insurance just in c-"

Elbert snapped, "The Black Fang?! You've got to be kidding me, Darin! Their viewed as a terrorist organization in half of the Lycian cantons, including my own! I do not trust these wicked men and their ways...I mean just look at their messenger!"

Elbert points at Ephidel, who continues to stare at him blankly.

He said, "Black hair, blood-red lips, and _golden_ eyes. I've seen no human with features like those. His demeanor is so robotic, too. I...I don't feel like I can trust these people..."

"Send him away. I refuse to work to work with the Black Fang."

The two men glare at each other. Neither move for some time, though both were deep in thought...

Darin said, "I'm afraid I can't do that. I need the Fang."

 _I see...you never really change, don't you?_

Elbert stands up and makes for his raincoat hanging on a nearby stand.

Darin exclaimed, "Hold it! Where do you think you're going?"

Elbert replied, "To find another way to initiate my republic! I _know_ you Darin, you've been planning on allying yourself with the Fang from the very start haven't you? I can't expect to trust them, and I'll be damned if I think I can trust you!"

Darin watches in horror as Elbert turns the doorknob and leaves. He'd always expected that Marquess Pharae would not react well with the introduction of the Fang, but he'd figured that Elbert would just stomach it just so he could accomplish his dream. Darin never took Elbert's moral compass into account, and now his coup had one less participant to help him.

Darin groaned, "Drat. We needed him. I don't know what he will do either, but I doubt he'll tell Uther of our plans."

Ephidel nodded, "Certainly. I suppose we must keep an eye out for him for now, but fret not. We do not need the aid of the other marquesses for you to take power. The crown for the whole of Lycia still lays within arm's length, Milord."

Darin smiled, and then looked out of the clear window of his study. The rolling hills of his kingdom extended out in all directions, and he spotted his son Erik sparring with one his men down below. It was practice for what was to come...an ambitious venture that will rock the continent from its cradled foundations.

Laughing, he draws his sword and rested his thumbs in on its sharp edge. He licks his lips dreamingly...he can almost taste it. The day when it'll be drenched with more crimson isn't far now...and he secretly craved for the day it cleaved through the neck of that worthless marquess...

He said, "Yes, the day isn't far now. It's a shame Elbert won't help me with this...but it's his loss. He'll grovel with the others on the day that Lycia..."

"Recognizes me as its king..."

* * *

 **Present...**

The weird dreams have been coming every day now, with each iteration more haunting and more disturbing than the last. They rob me of countless hours of sleep, and the migraines following are the subject of much discomfort throughout the day. I'd been scouring both the realms of magic and medicine for answers...but both failed in providing me with the relief I so desperately desired...

Serra said, "I'm sorry, but I have nothing that can help you. Try talking with that old witch. She deals with unholy stuff and I'm willing to turn a blind-eye just for you!"

That old witch...the fortune-teller named Hannah. She had joined our group shortly after Merlinus did, though she had done so on her own accord. She provides "auguries" for a small fee of 50 gold...but so far I'd refrained from using her services. I'd never believed in "voodoo magic" like this in my old life, and I won't do so now.

...

Well, I suppose there's a first time for everything. Another sleepless night and I think I'll start seeing things...I just know it...

* * *

"Zzzzzz..."

"Hey! Wake up!"

A raspy, old-sounding voice penetrates through my conscious membrane. Opening my eyes, I realize I'm inside Miss Hannah's tent. It's a simple structure with a thick canvas roof, red carpeted floor, and a single table carrying a weird translucent orb at its center. Hannah herself is sitting on a small chair across from me, and her face looks angry at my sleepy spell.

I said, "Ugh? Oh right, I'm here. What...were we doing again?"

Hannah replied, "You were asking me some questions about your dreams when you fell asleep. You've accumulated quite the bill young man, I charge by the minute and you've been snoozing away for half an hour."

My bones still tire from the day's worth of walking I'd subjected myself to. It's about my bedtime too, and add with that my stubborn insomnia...

I said, "Well, on the bright side I got a decent nap out of that. Anyway, do you have any answers for my problem?"

Hannah nods and whispers a spell above her magical glass orb. It flickers and glows like an old lightbulb, and at its center appeared a lone strand of white hair.

I said, "WOAH! Is that...what I think it is?!"

Hannah said, "Absolutely, it's a strand of your hair that I got in your sleep. I needed the hair of a virgin to start my spell, and fortunately yours did just the trick."

I bite my lip, but somehow avoid looking like a tomato. I said, "J-Just get it over with."

 _Yup, she's definitely a witch._

"As you wish."

Hannah swirls her hand over her orb, all the while repeating the same incantation over and over. Her hair rises into the air as if it were under the influence of static, and I'm inflicted with a weird... _dark_ sensation. I didn't know how to describe it...but it's neither harmful nor unpleasant.

The orb's bright glow dims out as it fills with black smoke. Visions permeated through the darkness like lightning bouncing around a storm, and this allows Hannah to begin her interpretation. She said, "I see...dark times ahead. Your dreams are a warning for the future, as confusing as they may be. Not just that, your heart is unsteady. Fate will soon force you to make a choice. Know this young man, do not trust your intuition."

Confused, I said, "Intuition? What's wrong with using reason?"

Ignoring me, Hannah continued. "I see...vile forces. You cannot solely rely on the strength of your friends to overcome this. You must pick up your sword once again and enter the fray...but worry not. New powers will appear to you, but only just before you receive assistance from the progenitor god."

 _The progenitor god?!_

Upon saying those words, Hannah raises her hands from the orb to cease the magic. Her device rids itself of all impurities, and the tent returns to normal. Meanwhile, I'm left there with my mouth gaping with shock.

Hannah said, "Close your mouth hun, a fly might waltz in."

I...couldn't believe what I just heard. Dark times, the army...a progenitor god?! That's not even mentioning the detail about "new powers". I'm just...this is beyond description. I said, "Hannah...what doe-"

Hannah replied, "It is not my job to interpret my findings. That is up to you to find out. Now, about my payment. That'll be 100 gold for one hour of work."

Desperate for answers, I said, "Wait a minute. Do you know anything about the void?"

She shook her head, "No. 100 gold please. In full."

"But..."

"100 gold."

"..."

"Fine."

* * *

 **Later...**

Walking through the lush Lycian plain one morning, I let my companion Matthew know of my plight. I said, "Bah! Why does that old lady have to speak in riddles?!"

I kick an idle pebble and watch it bounce off the surface of a nearby lake. It sank to the bottom like my hope to derive reason from this complex wordplay.

Matthew, not unused to my antics by now, shakes his head. He said, "It's her job to make stuff up like that. I think if she made it easy then everyone from around the world would want to take part in that sham of a "procedure". I still can't believe you coughed up 100 gold. You should be smarter than this."

Matthew is right. I _am_ smarter than this. This old woman's words should have no sway over me, yet they do. It's all because of my desperation to achieve that fabled good night's rest. It's funny, even after all that I still lack an answer.

I replied, "S-Shut up! I shouldn't even be talking to you right now."

Unfazed, he said, "Yet here we are. Face it Samuel, you're so desperate to have someone to talk to about this that you've come to me for support. Suck it up."

I respond by shaking my head and throwing myself on a flat tree stump. Comfortable with the anonymity of the situation, I take off my mask and let the shining sun bake my skin. I said, "Yeah...I suppose your right. I can't stand you, but you're the only one that can help me with this. I'm so sleepy that I've considered using tranquilizers to keep me down...but I fear of potential ramifications. There's no right answer..."

Feeling stressed, I bury my hands into my face. Matthew stands there in killing silence, with nothing but the wind and wildlife striking the air.

"..."

 _!_

I said, "Hey, what's that?"

I hear approaching footsteps crunching some dry grass. They were soft and dainty...like those of a certain pink-haired cleric I knew. Acting quickly, I reattached my mask...

The binding magic activates the moment Serra came into view. Clearing the brush, she said, "Hello! It's just me, Serra the Helpful!"

Matthew rolled his eyes, "More like Serra the Bashful. What are you doing here, woman?!"

Serra dramatically clutches her heart and brushes away her hair like some amateur actor. She said, "Oh...you wound me, Sir Matthew. Don't you know of the fragile hearts of princesses? I'll have you know that I am descended from Etruria's nobility!"

 _Okay, I don't believe that._

I said, "Serra, please just get to the point. Matthew and I were in the middle of something here."

Hearing my input, our cleric drops her act. She bows her head respectfully, though not too much as to suggest superiority. She said, "Lord Eliwood requests your presence. The scout you sent has located Castle Laus, and the situation requires your immediate attention."

I bite my lip. Serra's wording was...unusual. I'd never heard her speak this seriously about anything, and now it looks like I can confirm my earlier suspicions were true: These earlier battles were merely a taste of what was to come.

I said, "I see...very well. Let's go back immediately, Serra. Matthew, if you don't mind can you go check up on Rebecca to make sure she's okay?"

Matthew nodded, "As you command."

He leaves and we follow shortly behind. On our way back Serra began feeling a little anxious. She said, "Lord Eliwood...sounded worried when he spoke to me. Do...you think we're going to be okay?"

Hiding my own uncertainties, I smiled. I said, "There isn't a doubt in my mind that we'll have everyone safe and sound by the end of the day. Besides, when have I ever disappointed a woman of the cloth?"

Serra rolled her eyes, "I'm unsure of your history, Lieutenant. Do you have a reputation among the clergy?"

I shook my head, "Nope! I was just referring to you of course! Don't you worry, for you in particular, I will make sure these guys don't touch a hair on your pony-tailed head!"

Serra opens her eyes in shock. She'd never heard me speak with such confidence in her life...and to be honest it felt...energizing.

"Lieutenant..."

* * *

 **On the battlefield, overlooking Castle Laus...**

I observe the hordes of soldiers standing menacingly over the battlefield, their war banners waving through the air like a symphony of wind. They easily outnumbered us 4-1, and an anxious bead of sweat drips down my forehead.

 _Oh boy, how am I going to get ourselves out of this?_

We'd been betrayed. Eliwood had wanted to travel to the castle to garner a simple audience with Marquess Laus, but the man received a whiff of our plans. They must've spotted our soldiers in our camp behind the hill. Still, even as they deployed their troops on the field of war, Eliwood still clung onto a sliver of hope for peace...

Eliwood met Darin's son, a young man named Erik. By Eliwood's own account, he's an old school friend of his that used to share many of the same classes as him, and he's supposedly a man of great ambition. Hearing that last part didn't bring me much joy; usually ambition was something you'd want among your allies not potential enemies.

 _Eliwood said, "I wouldn't worry too much about him. I trust him."_

Well, Hector didn't. That's why he scouted the area beforehand, and he spotted a mass of battle-ready troops hiding amongst the rocks and trees of the land. He returned to Eliwood before Erik could make any attempt at striking him with his sword, and after revealing the latter's trickery, they elected to retreat before the enemy army could engage. Afterwards , he ordered our army to take defensive positions at a place close to our initial camp, and they sent Serra to come receive me. That is everything that's happened from then to now.

Atop a small hill where I'd set up my post, I observe the environment and our own deployment of troops. The battlefield was mostly flat, though a view cliffs and valleys inhabited the periphery. To the south laid a small lake, with an inviting beach strung across the shore. We had front-line soldiers like Lowen, Dorcas, Oswin, and Bartre defending two small narrow bridges separating our forces from the enemy, along with Rebecca comfortably perched on a tree. Far away, I could see two villages with their front gates wide open and undefended, though I doubted the enemy army would sack their own citizens. That was too despicable and violated every preconceived law of war.

My sights wander over towards two...odd structures beyond the shore. They stood on top of a few small islands near the center of the lake, and a few humanoid silhouettes frolicked near them. I couldn't quite make them out with my own two eyes, so I use a pair of binoculars to help me out...

 _Damnit._

Pirates. An insider almost certainly told them of the impending battle, and they're likely interested in sacking the village to the south. With the Lausen army occupied with our impending battle, there'll be nothing standing between them and plunder...

 _!_

"Lieutenant, is something wrong? I don't like that look about you."

Much to my displeasure, Serra had disobeyed orders and waltzed up here.. She's been doing this ever since our first conversation after Merlinus' rescue and got a kick every time she did it.

 _What a child..._

I said, "Serra! I thought I told you to stay near Merlinus in the back line. What are you doing here?"

Serra said, "I was...just a tad worried about you that's all. There's no need to be mean."

I replied, "You? Worried about me? That's unlike you. Who are you, and where did you put Serra?"

Rolling her eyes, she said, "Hmmph, you're so lame. Here I was about to volunteer my services for your condition...but I guess not."

 _Condition? What rumors have been circulating around the army?_

I said, "What do you mean?"

She replied, "Your memory loss. Matthew told me about it, and I thought it'd be a good idea if we stuck together. To record your thoughts, I mean. I am one of the few commoners who can read and write, and I think this arrangement will benefit the army."

What Serra was saying is true. Literacy is a rarity here in Elibe, with the privilege only held amongst the nobility, clergy, and merchant class. If someone were to record my thoughts, the lords and Merlinus would be too busy to fulfill that task, leaving our cleric the sole candidate for that position...

But that didn't mean I wanted it.

I said, "I don't need a scribe. Just leave me be and let me do my job."

Serra sighed, "Lieutenant, you don't even remember what you had for breakfast this morning...do you?"

"..."

Embarrassed, I refused to answer. As much as I didn't want a scribe, it was becoming increasingly clear that I needed one. My memory was getting worse and worse by the day...

I said, "Fine. Don't leave my side, we're going to stay around the back line, but we may have to support our friends if the moment requires it. I _will_ put you in more danger than your used to. Knowing that, do you still accept?"

She smiled, "Only if you become my vassal after."

"Not a chance in hell."

Serra laughs, and matter-of-factly rested her hands on her hips.

 _Here she is being dramatic again..._

She said, "Oh well, I suppose I'll accept. I'm sure you'll be doing most of the work, anyway. You know I hate getting my hands dirty..."

* * *

I said, "Okay you two. We have three equally important objectives to achieve here..."

I'm briefing Eliwood and Hector inside of Merlinus' tent. The air is tense from the immediate threats just several yards away, so I don't waste any time and get quick to the point.

I continued, "First, we have to secure the village to the north. I fear bandits may arrive from the mountains, so we have to be quick but careful. There's a small impasse that can bottleneck their forces, so I think we should deploy our heaviest units here."

Hector nodded, "Indeed. My man Oswin will suffice, but he'll need Rebecca to back him up. He soaks up a lot of hits, but I'm afraid he can't dish out much on his own."

I said, "Then it's settled then. Tell them to depart immediately, with Oswin leading the pair. He'll be away from the group, so emphasize that he has a lot of freedom. Just do what it takes to win, but don't hesitate to retreat if needed..."

"Second, we need to warn the southern village of the pirates. I will need only one man for the job, but he must be both fast and capable. Eliwood, I hope you have no quarrel with sending Marcus down there?"

Eliwood shook his head, "None at all."

I said, "Okay, he'll rendezvous with the third team after he's done. Inform him he shares the same privileges as Oswin..."

"Now for the last...and most difficult objective. As you two are aware, there is a large plain at the middle of the battlefield. The enemy will use this to storm our frontline when they want to...but we won't let them. I intend to use their own numbers against them...so listen closely..."

The old methods of the Parthian Empire come to mind. They were an old empire in the Middle East that would often come to blows with a technologically and numerically superior Roman Empire, with most of their battles occurring over flat desert plain. Despite the Roman Empire's advantages, they lost many battles to the Parthians, with the latter ultimately ceasing the roman's expansion at the end of Trajan's reign...

I said, "I call this...the Parthian hook. We'll take some of our most mobile units and entice the enemy to attack us in favorable terrain, after which we'll retreat while making use of our healing items. Over time, we'll wear down their forces at minimal cost to ourselves. We can attack once we sap enough their strength, or after they make some tactical mistake."

Hector said, "I'd look out for that. Erik's leading their forces, and he was miserably subpar in tactics class."

Eliwood said, "Erm...he wasn't _that_ bad. He bested is a few times, Hector."

He replied, "He bested me twice and you once, Eliwood. That one win was only because you let him too."

"Well..."

"Ahem."

I cough and politely get the attention of my two superiors. If they'd wanted to reminisce over memories, they should have done it on their free time.

I said, "If push comes to shove, we'll make our defense back on these initial positions. This place is fairly defensible, but I'd rather only keep this as a last resort. Falling all the way back won't bode well for our friends in the north flank...so let's not do that unless we have to."

I push back my anxieties towards possibly sending Rebecca to her death. Although I wouldn't feel good with allowing Oswin to fall, I don't know what I'd do with myself if Rebecca were to meet her end here.

 _I'm...going to speak with him after this. It's probably best left unsaid, but I want to make it clear to him that Rebecca needs to be protected..._

Hector said, "Why the pause, tactician? Are we ready to go?"

I snap out of it and retrieve my sword from a nearby rack. Smiling at my confidants, I put on a mask of confidence to hide my uncertainty about the coming battle.

I said, "Of course we are, gentlemen. Let's roll out!"

* * *

The battle began with us moving first. We hastily took our positions at the northern bottleneck and central plain, with Marcus riding towards the southern village. Hector, Bartre, and Lowen skirmished briefly with several foot soldiers to good results, and everything was going according to plan until...

Matthew came rushing through Merlinus' tent with his head red from running. His presence is unsolicited, confusing me on why he had left his post among our reserves outside...

Serra said, "Matthew? What are you doing h-"

Gasping for air, he said, "L-Lieutenant...there's been a development. The enemy has appeared from the east! The threaten our supply train and heckling some nearby homes as we speak!"

 _You've got to be kidding me._

I stressfully brush my hair back and take a deep breath. Clearing my mind, I take out my map and look at our reserve troops waiting idly at-the-ready.

I said, "How many?"

"Just a couple foot soldiers. However, the bigger problem is the pirates lurking from the south. They've seen Marcus leave to warn their initial prey, so now they've diverted their attention towards our supply train."

 _Drat. I should have seen this coming. These bastards desire nothing but to fill their coffers...even at the cost of their own lives._

I said, "Okay, for now let us continue with the plan. I want Guy to help me deal with those foot soldiers, and I want the rest of the reserve to watch those pirates. I grant permission to engage."

Skeptical, Matthew said, "Are you sure about that? I'm not doubting your ability...but...you know."

Serra replied, "Don't worry about it. I'm looking over him, so if he gets hurt I'll heal him up good!"

"Right..."

Matthew takes his leave, and I prepare to follow his lead. This small setback won't do much in the way of ruining my plans, so my confidence in the situation stayed steady like the nearby river. I nod at Serra to express that I'm ready to go, and she hands me my sword.

"Best not leave this, Lieutenant. I have a feeling you may need it."

I smile and we laugh it off like the young people we were. The sheer amount of arrogance seeping from us both was disgusting, but we didn't care. In our minds, there was nothing that could stand in our way...

If only I knew how right she was to say those words.

* * *

"Hold the line!"

Our troops struggle as armored knights come plowing through our lines. They clash with our blades and push several of our own with their momentum, sending a wave of panic through our people.

Lowen said, "He knocked me off my horse! Someone help me!"

Rebecca exclaimed, "I'm bleeding! I need a vulnerary!"

Guy said, "I...can't move my arm. Somebody...please."

The plan worked better on paper. I didn't take into account the terrain or lack of training amongst our members, and the greater mobility possessed by the enemy meant we couldn't retreat at will; eventually cultivating in a full rout. They were stronger than us in every way, though I didn't realize that grave detail until it was too late...

 _I've made a mistake. Elimine help us..._

I stand over Serra's unconscious body with my quivering blade in my hand. They trapped the rest of the army back near our original positions, with the situation bleaker than a Russian winter. Some stood huddled by the lords in a desperate attempt at a last stand, while others littered over the ground with gaping wounds over their bodies. I didn't know if some of the latter were okay...though I had other more pressing issues to worry about.

Isolated from the rest of the army, Serra and I are an enclave of blue in a sea of red. Two armored cavaliers eyed me down with their long spears already bloodied with my blood, though they weren't looking much better. We'd been going at it for the past few minutes...and I didn't know how much longer I could last...

A voice penetrates through the crowd of regulars. It sounded young...and very condescending. Who else could it belong to...but that bastard Erik?

He said, "My my...aren't you the enemy commander? What are you doing so far away from the rest of your underlings?"

The two cavaliers step aside and allow the pompous fool to ride through them. He's a brown-haired fellow with a stupid-looking face and a box head, though his sense of pride was large enough to block out the sun.

I said, "I'm a ghost. Nothing more, nothing less. I'm here because my friend got knocked out by one of your scummy knights...and I didn't have the heart to abandon her. What the hell do you think you're doing...attacking without so much as a declaration of war?"

Erik sneered, "The House of Laus is above the formalities of war. Hehehehe. Once we're done with you, there will be nothing between us and the crown of the entire nation!"

 _The nation?!_

I exclaimed, "Are you mad?! You're meaning to tell me that this entire thing is just a ploy to cover up your impending coup? You don't stand a chance against the might of Ostia!"

He replied, "Do you really think that? Even after we put you simpletons down so easily? Surely you jest, we will crush the Ostian army easily...just as Ephidel said!"

 _Ephidel?!_

Hearing his name sends a wave of anger through my body. My grasp tightens immensely, so much so that my blade's handle cracks under the pressure. My breathes are deep and intense, just like my urge to kill that hellspawn where he stood.

I said, "You...where did you hear that name?"

Erik replied, "Ephidel? Hmmm, I may have said too much. Now my will is resolute. For your crime of needless questioning, the penalty is death. Your executioners are my own soldiers."

"Men...do your duty. After which, you may please yourself with that cleric for being such loyal soldiers..."

The soldiers sit uncomfortably atop their steeds. Erik's words did not deliver the burst of determination he'd been desiring, and one man went as far to let his thoughts be known.

He said, "M'lord, you know we can't do that. She's a woman of the cloth. I...a nun raised me."

His mate said, "As was I. They took care of me when neither my parents nor the crown could."

"..."

Erik stares at his soldiers. Realizing he can gain nothing by pushing the issue further, he swallowed his pride.

He said, "Whatever. Just the kill the man and throw the woman in the dungeon. You three can do that, yes?"

"Of course M'lord. As you wish..."

Erk smirks and turns his back towards me. His horse's hooves pound against the ground like a hammer nailing down the final nails in a coffin, and he beckons his horse to ride away...

"Hehehe. Father will be proud..."

I exclaimed, "Hold it! I won't allow you to leave!"

"Hm?"

I grip my sword tight, but I hide something behind my long sleeve. It's something I've been dying to use since Erik first showed his cocky face...but to do so I needed him to get just...a...little closer.

I said, "Why not just take my prisoner? Do you know who I am?"

Erik snickered, "Yeah, you're some commoner with a big mouth so what?"

Anxiety pounds against my chest. Keeping my wits, it's my intention to continue stoking his ego. Once I can do that...let's just say it won't turn out well for them.

I said, "I might be...or not. You are a mighty fine commander and an equally good prince. I wonder how your father would feel...no...I wonder how the world would feel if you felled the fiend Azazel with your own blade."

Erik pauses...he'd taken the bait. He glares at me with an expression somewhere between intrigue and ambition.

He says, "You? Azazel? You're just talking out of your mouth hole you scoundrel. Why would you claim to be that villain?"

I smile, and I grab onto my the bottom edge of my mask. I whisper an incantation to unbind the ceramic object from my face, with the words too muffled for anyone but myself to hear.

"By the Creator...it's you..."

The mask leaves my face and I drop it onto the ground. Hurried gasps and whisper fills the air, but none of them came from my cocky target. Instead, he allows his maniacal laughter to drown out the fear of his subjects.

He said, "Hahahaha! It's you! There's no doubt about it... you have those dreaded colored eyes! Very well, I will fell you with my blade! Step forward demon! Step forward and receive your one-way ticket to Hell!"

He pulls away from the protection of his knights, and he raises his sword into the air in an impulsive display of power. His smile is as wide as the open prairie were standing on, and his power-hungry aura oozes through the air like a disgusting mist of smog. He ignores the pleading cries of his troops and focuses completely towards removing my head from my shoulders.

He exclaimed, "I will personally deliver my father your head!"

"..."

I smirk and whisper another incantation. Something much more deadly...

BOOM!

A symphony of chaos puts itself into existence with myself as the conductor. Waving my metaphorical baton, I use my magical flame to establish a foundational tenor. Calling onto the screams of men, I meld their alto sounds and add them into my performance. I eye Erik ominously from my elevated position of power; his unscathed person shivering in silence.

I'd slammed his two soldiers with respective balls of fire. They wither on the grass like blackened skeletons with their merciful pleas of death ricocheting around our mortal plane, sending a reinforcing wave of fear down his psyche.

He exclaimed, "Y-You really are a demon!"

I laugh and casually retrieve my mask from the ground. I briefly shoot a glance at Serra to make sure she's still breathing...which she was...

 _Thank Elimine..._

This whole thing was a front. The persona I'd brought to bear in front of Erik did not differ from my mask...just a ruse to accomplish a greater goal. I'm nothing like the monster I'm presenting myself as...right?

I approach the wriggling lordling, and he lunges forward in a vain attempt to stop me. His sword flies blindly, inevitably jamming itself between my metallic fingers.

Erik exclaimed, "What?! T-That should've cut your hand clean off!"

I snickered, "Yeah. But I am no ordinary man."

I send the last of my mana through my fingertips and shatter the weapon in one fantastic display of force. Shards of metal go flying through the air, imbedding themselves into both of our bodies.

 _Ack! That hurt, I can't let him know about that though..._

Erik pleaded, "Why are you doing this?! What's your purpose in revealing yourself to me?! O-Once your army figures out who you are, they'll surely kill you!"

I said, "You're right. My purpose here is to buy my army enough time to heal up and counterattack. Fortunately, it appears I've succeeded."

Erik looks on with horror as the approaching line of my allies came into view past the horizon. As predicted, they'd regrouped and successfully put down the enemy. The road was now open between us and Castle Laus.

He said, "But why show your face to me? You may have won the battle, but once I tell them what happened you'll be done for!"

"..."

I glare at him with my evil eyes. His mind clears a hump, and looking towards his deceased soldiers as my example, he puts one and one together.

I approach him again...

He pleads, "No! You can't kill me! I-I'm nobility! No!"

I said ominously, "I will not kill you. There's more than one way to silence a man after all."

"What! AH!"

 _!_

I ball up my metallic fist and deliver a swift, powerful roundhouse punch through Erik's lower jaw. I hit it so hard that I spins him across the grass like a top, ultimately resulting in a little travel distance until he hits the soft ground with a thud.

Peering over my unconscious opponent, I notice that he has his left hand tucked in between his chest while his right is extended outwards. His chest expands slowly with each parting breath...

 _The fencing response...good. A concussion. Given the recency of my reveal, I think he'll forget everything that transpired here. There's a slight chance I may have paralyzed him, but that's a risk I'm willing to take._

I look out towards my approaching allies and smiled. Somehow, by the skin of my teeth, I led these guys to a win. Maybe I was wrong about my earlier assessment...

Maybe, I have a little luck after all...

* * *

After the battle, we take up residence in Castle Laus for the night. Everyone is tired and wounded beyond description, and while my friends were resting up and feasting on these rich folks' food, I'm reading through some messenger transcripts left behind by the retreating army in the building's post office. I'm alone and weak from the minimal mana coursing through my veins, but I still somehow stay awake as I read through every relevant entry...

 **T:** _Our lord has ordered the army to retreat. We will discuss later the destination, but all the land's elite units are to abandon the homeland and heir to the invaders. We will attack in greater strength at a later time..._

I put that letter down and pick up another, this one originating from a general skeptical of the authenticity of his orders. It's a direct response to Marquess Laus' decision.

 **T:** _M'lord Darin. You know that I wouldn't question your position or worth, but is this really the correct action to take? Our men have homes around here, to abandon it to these Lycian lordling will be a travesty! Please, reconsider. Your son is fighting valiantly on the front line, he just needs our support to put the battle away..._

I put that transcript down and hesitantly pick up the response. Its handwriting is ugly and jagged like they made it in a hurry. My irises shiver as they glance over at the three words of black staining the white sheet.

 **D:** _Do your job._

By the Creator's graces. I don't know what's more surprising, that Laus could've swept us under the rug easily with a single order, or that Darin abandoned his son and only heir so easily. Every report I'd received stated that he loved that kid dearly...yet here was leaving him out to die. How...how despicable.

I muttered, "It's a shame. It's a damn shame. Here I am risking my life for my niece...family who I hold above even myself. What I'd do to punch that guy in the gut. He's...he's an utter sham of a father and a man. These noblemen are all the same..."

"..."

"I swear, we're not all like that."

I look over my shoulder and spot Eliwood standing by the door. His ragged hair spewed out across his head like a mop, and his clothes were off center. The expression of sadness on his face makes me think he'd just discovered some grave truth, though the familiar smell of alcohol didn't do much to damp this theory.

 _Alcohol?_

Eliwood dizzily steps forward, and his leg hits the leg of a nearby stool. Stumbling forward, he hits the ground before I can catch him.

"Ugh..."

He leans against a wall for support and rubbed his hurt knee. He's clearly drunk, any sober person would've been screaming in pain by now.

I said, "Eliwood...what are you doing? This...is unlike you."

Overwhelmed with a sense of shame, he looks away and keeps his mouth closed. Something is taking a massive toll on him, though I don't know what.

I sigh, and figuring I didn't have much else to do right now, I slowly make my way over to his side. Both our backs were flat against the wall, and in a way...it felt like they joined us together in a brotherhood of misery.

He said, "We're...not all like that, you know? My parents, were fantastic to me. Hector's too. I'm about as surprised as you that Darin left his son to us."

As much as I'd like to tell Eliwood of my suspicions about the Black Fang, I couldn't. I'd break my cover if I did that, and my thinly woven identity would unravel the moment Eliwood woke up the following morning. For now, I must do my best to play dumb...and let this whole journey take its course naturally.

Besides, would he believe me? That some mystical sorcerer named Nergal is secretly behind the scenes playing with his home country's politics while I just watched? Heck, he'd sooner think I was the drunk one before he considered that anything but fiction.

I said, "Hmph. I'm sorry, I'm afraid I've seen far too much in this world. I'm guilty of the same thing people often do to me. I label folks based on preconceived stereotypes, but I'll work to make sure I grow out of this. It's only fair towards you and Hector."

"..."

"Kenan...are we friends?"

 _What?!_

I replied, "Friends? Of course we are. You're the smartest, finest noble on this side of Cunus Mountains. Your heart brings good will to anyone that it comes into contact with. Why wouldn't anyone want to be friends with you?"

Breathing a sigh of relief, he said, "That's good. It's a good thing I'm here with you. This is the first time I've taken to the bottle, actually. I've found out about some...terrible things I'd like to get out of my chest."

"Lay it on me. I'll help you through this..."

Hearing this come from Eliwood was...strange. I never knew this flamboyant lord had insecurities welled up deep in his heart, but I suppose many don't know of my own. I hide behind a physical mask that blocks the scars of a whole year of pain and misery...while Eliwood hid behind a metaphorical one composed of manufactured confidence and chivalry. It's sad really...often the ones consoling need to be have been consoled themselves to understand...

He said, "We interrogated Erik...he told me that my father wanted to overthrow House Ostia. Create a revolution, he said. I didn't want to believe, and neither did Hector, but deep down I fear that he's telling the truth. What if...he is telling the truth?"

I said, "Don't worry about the filth coming out of his mouth. He's just a concussed SOB who's lost all form of relevant influence, and now he's resorted to getting in your head. I will be honest with you. I don't who the type of person your father was, but if your any reflection of him, I'm sure he'd never betray Marquess Ostia. If he did...I'll eat my hat!"

That lame joke is enough to make my friend laugh. A smile returns to his face, and his posture rejuvenated with vitality.

He said, "Hahahaha. You're not even wearing a hat."

"I have a Tyrolean back at home. If I do have to end up eating then...I'm afraid you may need to wait for some time."

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that..."

Firmly comfortable with himself again, we spend the next hour talking about whatever came to our minds. We spoke about our lives before the war, proper court etiquette, interesting memories surrounded by nature, and amazing dishes our mothers made for us during our childhood. It truly was good bonding time, and I was sad that it eventually had to end.

Eliwood said, "Ah, I think I've been down here enough time. Thank you Kenan, I'll heed your advice and stray away from this kind of drinking again."

I nodded approvingly, "Good. I'm happy for you. Alcohol is meant to bring joy, not bury ourselves in sorrow."

Eliwood sighed, "Right again, my tactician. Before I go, there is one more thing weighing on my mind tonight. I take every precaution to make the civilians stay unharmed from our politics, but today I failed in that mission. You remember that princess Marcus rescued earlier today? The traboudour?"

I nodded, "Yeah, I think her name was...Pricilla."

Eliwood said, "Turns out she had an escort helping her through Lycia, who died offering our northern flank support. He's truly a valiant man, he took out several of the enemy archers before one ended his life. I think he was a mage. I...can't help but feel guilty."

I replied, "I wouldn't really worry too much about that milord. He understood the risks in helping us during our battle, and I'm sure Pricilla is thankful for his efforts. As much as I don't want to say it, it's better for an unknown like him to die than one of our own."

He disagreed, "No...he wasn't unknown. Serra knew him personally...and so did Matthew. The reason I'm came here in the first place is because the latter asked me to come get you..."

"What?!"

Matthew knows many people, heck we even ran into one of them a few days ago. But...Serra knows him too? That can only mean one thing...

 _He's a member of the original Lyn's Legion..._

I said, "Eliwood...what's the name of this mage?!"

"..."

The air fills with a disturbing amount of silence. I lay waiting in anticipation for the words I'm dreading, but secretly already suspected.

 _Please...tell me it's not him..._

"..."

"His name was..."

"Erk."

* * *

 **A/N: Congrats on making it to the end! I went ahead and wrote an excerpt for the sequel, and it'll come out next week!**


	56. Fringe Reality

**Chapter 51: Fringe Reality**

 **By SodiumChloride12, derived from Fire Emblem, owned by Nintendo.**

 **A/N: This week was really busy. REALLY busy. I still managed to keep my writing schedule up though, and now I can chill over the weekend. Definitely going to spend it writing when I can.**

 **This chapter is trippy. Don't worry, it's going to get much worse next week.  
**

 **N: Death can come at any time. That's fact understood by everyone now, moreso with the army's tactician. Erk is dead, and Samuel finds himself reminiscing about past happy memories...  
**

* * *

 **Several months ago...**

I bury my shaking foot into the frozen earth, and thick snow tickles the sides of my ankles. My heaving lungs take in a thick quantity of mountain air with each difficult step, and I tire after only a few minutes of exercise. The discomfort is akin to an intense workout...but motivated with nothing but my tenacity...I continue to push myself higher and higher up this snow-covered hill...

"Careful there friend, you musn't push yourself too hard. Remember, there's always tomorrow."

Erk and I are hiking up a small hill outside the gates of Höger. We'd begun doing this together after I first regained the feelings in my legs a couple weeks ago, though so far the goings been rough. The atrophy in my muscles were severe and absolute, and at first I could barely walk the bottom of the hill from the front door. However, after hours of hard work I'd finally reached the point I'm at now...just a few feet from reaching the hill's summit.

I said, "No...I want to get there _today_. I've been wanting to climb this hill since the day I first saw it outside my window. We _will_ do this..."

With my arm firmly slung around my friend's shoulder, I heave my left leg forward. The limb barely moves despite my command, but it responds well enough that I eliminated more distance between ourselves and my goal...

Realizing that he can't convince me to stop, he instead showers me with a tirade of peppy words for encouragement. I push myself harder and harder to achieve this elementary goal...but for me I might as well have been climbing a mountain. Even so, my will is resolute. Muscle atrophy be damned, the human condition can and will overcome any obstacle in its path.

Erk said, "Come on, you're almost there! Just one more step! Push yourself!"

"Hwuaaaaaaagh!"

 _!_

With one final gasp, I throw myself onto the powdery snow ahead. I squirm with the soft pillow-like substance as it cradled my weak body like my mother...and I lift my fist up in a victorious display of achievement.

Erk said, "You did it...you did it you bastard!"

I smile and laugh like a little boy. Erk joins me in the thick powder, and we frolic in a child-like banter. It truly felt like a reminder of a childhood long since passed. We spend the next hour making snow angels, eating snow, and constructing a snowman we named "Frosty".

We finish our labor and look over at the village below. I admired the beautiful snow-capped trees, the flowing rivers seeping with thermal groundwater, the few trumpeters flying through the sky, and the deafening silence that accompanied it all. A sight like this would've been rare to see in any place that wasn't named Yellowstone...

I said, "Erk, I really had fun today. Thank you for everything...I don't know where I'd be if it wasn't for your help. I...I'm unsure of what else I can say. It's a shame today's your last day here..."

Erk was going home tomorrow, and today served as the last opportunity for us to climb this hill together. Admittingly, that was part of the reason I pushed so hard to come here when I did, because from here on out I don't know when I'll have another chance to have some good time with my buddy again.

He said, "But you know you're always welcome at my home. Once you get yourself settled, come vacation at my mentor's castle. We're a short ride from the coast, and I'm sure you'll want a warm break from...all this..."

He lifts a ball of snow, and I laugh. He has a point, eventually there will come a day when I'll want to return to the warm weather of my youth...and where else to do that than in the home of one of my closest friends?

I replied, " I'll make sure to give you a letter well in advance..."

"..."

"Erk...you're one of my oldest friends, you know that right? Even after all the things that transpired with me, you still stuck around. You came out here to help me too. I...I just want to know why. What do you see in me that you think is so important about saving?"

Erk pauses, and together we look out towards the sky. We're stuck in insightful thought, though I can't help but wonder what's going on in his mind.

He said, "Sam, you don't know this but...you were my first friend. Growing up, I always lived life deep inside the book within the comfort of my room. I never talked to anyone besides my parents and servants. You're the first guy around my age that I bonded with...and whether or not you meant it, you taught me that there's more to life than what you can read in a book. For that...thank you..."

"Erk..."

This purple haired mage...it's like he's my brother. The sense of love and comaraderie shared between us stands unmatched when compared to any obstacle that can stand in its way, whether it be distance, time, or even death. There's no one else I'd rather call my friend than him...

I said, "Erk...I love you, man."

"I love you too, brother."

* * *

 **Present...**

My head lays folded down and closed on a table. The air is silent, except for the hushed sobbing of Serra standing nearby...

She said, "Oh Erky...why did you have to die?"

I'm at the castle's hospital ward, a room similar in style to its counterpart in Caelin. Brown candles illuminate the gray, cracked walls, and the open cubicle windows let in stuffing, warm air. Unused surgeon's supplies laid idle on a desk tucked in a forgotten corner of the room, with the latter having been put there by some over-anxious soldier. The place is mostly empty save for a lone cot harbored at a short distance from the front door, on top of which contained a body with a cloth over its head...

Pricilla said, "He...he was a valiant man. Always keeping to himself and at times uptight, but never refusing to give others his respect. He has my most gracious gratitude..."

A tear falls down her cheek, and she wipes it away. Her relationship with Erk had always been professional, though I suspect something else may have been there too. A feeling of remorse mixed in with a mustard seed of affection. Whether these suspicions were founded; I'd never know. Such a reality has now disappeared with the flicker of death. As is the tale of war...

Matthew said, "We likely would have lost the battle today if it wasn't for his help. His memory will forever live in us, both in death and in life. My only regret is that I didn't know him and better..."

A lump of guilt builds in my gut. Looking down on my friend's body makes me feel sick to my stomach and wished nothing more than permission to cry out in agony. I wanted to sob and share in the grief of my friends...but such a thing is incompatible with my persona. Lieutenant Vacia is a veteran who has no relationship with Erk of Etruria, and my emotions should display as such. All I can do right now is stomach the pain...

At least in the surface...

"..."

I look at Erk's body again. Observing his face, I catch a glimpse of...happiness? It's a light gesture of goodwill, surely the result of a self-imposed hallucination. The smile disappears as soon as it came, and I'm left bewildered with what just happened.

 _What?_

 _..._

 _I can't do this._

Standing up, I said, "E-Excuse me. I have some business I need to attend to."

My compatriots nod in silence and I vacate the room. I...couldn't stand to sit in that place any longer with him. Elimine forgive me for my weakness, but it's the only thing I could've done to save myself.

I walk through the winding halls and observe the unique architecture. Unlike Castle Caelin, the fortress is constructed in a gothic style, and I can see this in the depressing, rigid nature of the high walls. The little color brought in from the equally towering stained glass windows didn't do much to detract from the ambience either. Disappointed at the lack of inspiring options, I observe several busts of long-dead men, with a few containing tidbits of information much like a museum would. Curious, I elected to indulge in this triviality if only to get the sickening reminder of my dead friend out of my mind.

One is of a man who had long, curly hair much like my own. He had a large scar wrought around his neck, along with the dress of a warrior. His name was Octavo.

The plaque read: _Octavo was a ruthless warrior that never figured out how to govern. He has feats that included subjugating the nearby Caelin, Thria, and Tuscana counties. At one point, he even held the city of Ostia under siege. However, just as the Lycian crown was about to fall to him, his jealous brother instigated a civil war back in the capital. The whole engagement turned out to be bloodless; Octava met his end when he succumbed to a bout of plague on the journey home. Out of fear of the disease his body wasn't interned into the Royal Mausoleum until the year 582._

Another is of a younger fellow with a short bowl cut. He reminds me of what Paul McCartney used to look in his younger years.

The plaque read: _Richard was a ruler who differed from his contemporaries greatly. A peaceful soul, he was snubbed for the throne in favor of his more ambitious younger sister. He lived most his life singing songs and discussing philosophy at the forums. They thrust him into the throne when his sibling went through a period of temporary insanity, though his reign was reputable for being the first to suggest the abolition of slavery. After his sister came to, he retreated to the periphery of history again, living a peaceful life. He died at the old age of 90, having outlived his younger sister by decade._

Finally, I finish with another military man. His skin is noticeably tanner than the others, and his hair as pure as gold.

The plaque read: _Atalon_ _was the bastard child of Charles the Great, the product of a Lycian father and a Nabatan concubine. He lived the dawn of his existence in obscurity, eventually being called to the throne when all other available heirs died at the Battle of the Twin Peaks in 101. Despite objections regarding his heritage, he valiantly rounded up the survivors and fought back the Etrurian invaders at Ryerde in 111, and again at Ostia in 112. His efforts cultivated the end of the forty year's war, making him the most famous and cherished Lausian ruler of all time. After his death in 148, they founded a prestigious school in Ostia in his honor._

"Atalon..."

I'd heard his name sung by over-joyous bards in the tavern, but I never suspected he was of color. He must've been a man who had to deal with a lot of adversity in his life...though of a different substance of my own. I can't help but look up to this man, even if his descendants were a bunch of blue-blooded hacks.

I muttered, "Pity. I wonder how'd he'd react to the actions of his beloved country now..."

"..."

I leave and vacate the room quietly. Having quenched my curiosity, I'm able to more easily handle the burdens weighing down on my heart, and I return to my friends...

* * *

 **Later...**

We buried Erk by a small tree near the castle. The ceremony was somber and held mostly in silence, though few attended besides the surviving members of Lyn's Legion and Priscilla. I helped put him into the earth with my own hands, and although the grief I felt at the moment was sickening...it made the healing process a little easier...

Having finished our labor, people say their final goodbyes. Pricilla reminisces about the polite gentleman she perceives him to be, and she leaves a white rose by his tombstone. Matthew said little, but he afforded his tomb a light nod and a polite tip of the hat. Dorcas muttered a few words, but Serra's farewell was a fair bit different...

"Erk..."

It leaves Serra and me alone after everyone returned to the safety of the castle. Looking at her face, I realize that this was saddest I'd ever seen her in my life. Tears streamed down the sides of her face like a depressed river delta, and her usually fair skin seemed cold to the touch. Even her hair, which was usually a source of pride for this presumptuous young cleric, is in a state of misery. I never suspected she felt this way about Erk...especially after all the strain the two went through in their journey together...

I said, "Serra, Erk really meant a lot to you...did he?"

Serra wipes some tears from her face and blew into her handkerchief. She's much more composed now, though still noticeably shaken.

She said, "Yeah, he did. We...we never really got along, and it's because I was always mean to him. I...just wish it could've ended differently..."

Erk told me plenty of stories of mistreatment at the hand of Serra. It was always "Erk do this ridiculous thing" or "Erk praise me for this", and the young man always rued his time of service with her. However, what Erk failed to understand is that the high-maintenance personality presented by Serra was a mask hiding a much more vulnerable personality...one that he possibility could've reached had he been a bit more patient.

I asked, "Would you have done anything differently?"

Serra nodded, "Yes. I think...I would've treated him better and been more respectful. Maybe then our friendship really would have flourished...and I'd gather the strength needed to tell him I loved him..."

 _!_

Serra...loved Erk. In my old world, I often observed people be mean towards their crushes to hide their feelings towards them. I never thought such behavior would carry on over here...but it would appear that I'm wrong. I can feel empathetic towards Serra's plight. Animosity can often be a barrier in a relationship...much like my relationship with Lyn...

 _Oh, Lyn. I wonder how she's doing now. I hope she's okay..._

Serra sighs and then walks back towards the castle. I carry on close behind her, not wanting to find myself alone near dusk...

She said, "Pity. I'll live the rest of my life cherishing the few bountiful moments we shared. Other than that, I'm afraid I must move on..."

"As you should."

She continued, "Come. Let's go eat some dinner. I'm sure you haven't eaten in a while..."

* * *

 **An hour past dusk...**

After eating a plain dinner of insignificant regard, I discussed our next move with the lords. We met up in Lord Darin's old study near the main throne room, and the air is crisp. His furnishings were comfortable and expertly made from the efforts of the finest craftsman of Illia. Flanking bookcases rose from the wood like towering golems guarding the darkest secrets of house Laus, with the nearby smaller cabinets serving as gargoyles to these intimidating beasts. The main table we took charge of felt like the epicenter of this immortal stare off between fictional creatures, though none of us cared.

Hector said, "Yawn. That sums up the plan. We'll be shadowing the Lausian army in the morning. I doubt they'll go far."

Eliwood agreed, ". We'll leave at dawn, so everyone go to bed. We can discuss m-...Lieutenant?"

 _This makes little sense. The Lausian army is riding east. Surely if they'd want to start a rebellion they'd go south to meet with their Ryerdian allies..._

 _...!_

Hearing Eliwood's voice jolts me back to reality.

I said, "My apologies, I just find something unusual. Answer me this question, are and Ryerde still allies?"

Laus and Ryderde have been traditional allies for several centuries. It started when the former came the latter's defense during a war in the year 689, and they'd been fairly close since.

Hector shook his head, "No. Erik declined to marry their princess last year. This grave political insult didn't sit well with Marquess Ryerde, and relations between the two cantons haven't been...good."

I rubbed my chin, "I see. Then what good would they do to travel East?"

Eliwood shrugged his shoulders, "Dunno. I assume we'll find out soon enough, however. May we finally retire for the evening?"

Eliwood's tiredness is visible for all to see. His eyes are droopy from the night's burden, and he still probably has a headache from all the alcohol he consumed earlier. A man like him deserves to be sleeping away his aches and pains, so I let him. Besides, it's almost midnight...

I said, "Yeah, my apologies. Go ahead. Hector, you mentioned to me earlier you wanted to brief Oswin right? You should do that."

He replied, "Alright. I'll go do it, but not because you told me too."

I rolled my eyes, "Sure."

We leave and I take to my bedding in one of Lord Darin's many guest rooms. Being here really feels like a hotel, with each room being of varied quality. At the east wing resided all the luxurious rooms, where the royals along with the nobility slept the night away in relative comfort. The south wing had the knight's quarters, while the west contained the servant's dwellings. I did not sleep in any of these places. Instead, I set up a hammock atop the castle's keep, as the ventilation here was much better than indoors.

 _Better here than anywhere else. Now...time to get some shut-eye..._

 _Zzzzzzzz..._

* * *

 _!_

I hadn't even passed into REM sleep when Matthew wakes me up. My disheveled hair flops around my face like a dry rag, and he hadn't even changed out of his pajamas. I hear some light rumbling coming from downstairs, though the lack of moonlight made it difficult to see what was going on...

He said, "Samuel, I'm sorry to interrupt your beauty sleep, but we require your services immediately. Mercenaries under the employ of Laus have broken into the castle, and our forces have retreated to the throne. We will make our defense there."

I nod groggily and hurriedly follow him downstairs. Through the torchlight I spied that the hour hand had reached twelve, a fitting hour for a group of travelers to be fighting for their lives...

We reach the throne room quickly, and I'm appalled by the miserable state of affairs. Several of our own men were fighting in a state not befitting of my standards, though I can't blame them. They were all fighting with sleep-deprivation, tiredness, and anxiety on their minds. In any other situation I wouldn't dare to confront the enemy like this...but I suppose there's a first time for everything.

I find Hector and Eliwood huddled near the throne. They were talking about a strategy to get ourselves out of this mess, and I kindly inserted myself into their discussion.

I asked, "What's the situation?"

Eliwood replied, "We're being attacked from all fronts. North, South, East, and West. They've snuck in despite the watch we've set up. To my knowledge, they do not intend to take the castle, but finish what Erik could not."

"Crud..."

My heart jumps with anxiety, so I take a quick swig of whiskey from my canteen. Eliwood and Hector give me a look of disgust, but I disregard their concerns and discard the container like it was business as usual. It _was_ business as usual.

I said, "All right, let's get a head count of everyone here. Afterwards, I want everyone to take on defensive positions. This is a siege gentleman. We must hold out for as long as we can!"

I salute my superiors, and they follow suit. Looking out towards our forces again, I'm again struck by the bleakness of the situation.

The entire fortress is dark, so much so I can't see beyond a one meter radius of my person. The air is stuffy and miserable, while also responsive to the smallest stimuli of sound. Evil shadows seem to lurk in every orifice, and the aura is anxious. This represented the worst place to defend in the event of an attack, with the only worser situation being an attack say, inside the boundaries of a Carazanite jungle.

Thinking about that sends a sting of pain to my stomach. I still can't shake the memory of that never ending hellhole from my mind. It gnaws at my soul like a parasitic worm swimming through my veins, sapping my conscious of my will and replacing it with anxiety-inducing miasma. It's the worst disease known to man, but I can't think of any way to shake it. _If_ there is any way to shake it...

I've been noticing it over these past few days; my anxiety. It started the night after Rebecca nearly died. I tossed and turned on my bed for hours lamenting how I could've avoided this...

 _What if we had just run away? No, Rebecca isn't the person to do that without a fight. I should've noticed her injury sooner. It's my job to keep my people safe..._

Eventually, this developed into full-on insomnia. It exhausted me beyond measure, and I thirsted for the morning sun to distract me from this predicament. Although this experience had negative effects on my health, it served as the first time I truly came to terms with the responsibility entrusted to me...

That time it may have been Rebecca's life in the balance, but my job requires me to look over many more souls. These people mean so much to me, and although many of them are nothing more than mere acquaintances, many more are my dearest friends. Rebecca, Lowen, Serra, Eliwood...the list goes on. They've placed their deepest trust in my ability to keep them alive...a trust I've already breached with Erk's death.

...

Was Erk's death the first casualty in our army? Technically, the answer was no. He had not entered Eliwood's service at the time of his death, but that still doesn't detract from the fault directed towards me. I was foolish enough not to consider civilians taking part in the field of war, and had I been under the service of any other lord, the price for my ineptitude would've been my immediate dismissal. Instead, my dearest friend paid that price, who now sits in a grave six feet underground.

 _..._

Occasionally, I'll get flashes of his gray face peering over me behind a blood-red background. I...fear this disease might be something more serious than I initially suspected. What's...going to happen to me? This uncertainty...it's overwhelming. The only guarantee is that my anxiety will get worse with time, and with it my consumption of brandy to quell it.

Speaking of which, the affects of my drink were now starting to come to bear...

I take a stress-free sigh and realize that while I was wandering through the labyrinth of my inner thoughts, I'd accidentally wandered into some unknown corner of Castle Laus. The little moonlight leaking through the ceiling reveals a place I hadn't seen before, and looking around, I think I'm somewhere between the south and west wings. A place scarcely attended to by anyone besides the most conflicted on individuals...

The north wing...home to the castle's prisoners. As the most secure prison in the land, Laus' notorious murderers, arsonists, and killers all dwelled within these filthy cells. There is scarcely a lumen of moonlight coming through the wall, but the sensitive acoustics notifies the worst of society of my presence.

I close my ears expecting the jeering of a mountain of men, but it never comes. Instead, I'm met with a lone whimper near the end of the compound, a plea from a former enemy I'd made the day before.

I disregard the dead leers from the other inmates and make my way towards Erik, crown prince of Laus. We'd thrown him in here while we waited for a Pharean agent to prepare for prolonged incarceration, though we did not treat him cruelly. We fed him regularly and allowed the occasional audience with his butler, along with residence in a cell more lavishly furnished than Eliwood's. He should be rather pleased with his state of affairs, but he isn't.

Instead, he looks at me with a pair of eyes that should belong on a dead body. He said, "Tactician...I've fallen into the worst fate. Abandoned by my father and left for dead. I...don't know what to do with myself."

Fortunately for me, my efforts to erase his memory have been successful. He has no recollection of the identity that I hid underneath my mask, and so, never the one to leave a grief-stricken man alone, I help him with his plight. He is after all, human.

I said, "Spend these next few weeks contemplating about the man you want to become, Erik. Unlike these other louts you've locked up for life, you have a future once you regain your freedom. Don't waste it, otherwise people like me might come along to stop you. Who knows...they may not be as lenient as my masters are to you now."

Erik scratches the bottom of his jaw. Serra has done an excellent job in putting it back together after I'd smashed it, though evidently it still brings him a moderate amount of pain.

"I'll make a note of that. Mark my words, Lieutenant. I'll turn over a new leaf after I become marquess of this land. I'll treat my citizens fairly, and prosperity will become a matter of policy. History will know me as a just, and right ruler."

I roll my eyes, scarcely hiding my skepticism. As cynical as it may sound, I'm of the camp that believes people never change unless coerced by their environment. While on the surface Erik may appear to have a remorseful heart, liberating him will only enable a streamline to his old ways. It's an inevitability that will eventually lead to more death and suffering in the canton of Laus, though it's not my job to deal with it.

I said plainly, "Sure."

Not wishing to spend another moment with this pitiful excuse of a man, I turn my back on him and walk away. He calls out my name, "Kenan! Where do you think you're going?"

I replied, "I must return to the rest of my army. Some of your goons stuck around and paid us a visit. There's a battle to be won."

"..."

Erik lapses again, though this time it's with confusion. He asked, "Battle? What battle?"

I confidently replied, "Have you not been listening to the cries of men and steel from your gilded cage? Please tell me your not going ins-"

"..."

My eyes go wide open with shock. Closing my eyes, I try to focus on the sounds of war originating from an area not too far away...but I fail. The air is as still as an idle river, and there's no sign of fighting besides the peaceful summer night toying with my senses. Feeling uneasy, I said, "What's...what's going on here?!"

Erik said it blunt, "Samuel, there never was a battle. In fact, your friends are perfectly safe snoozing away in their beds. The only one out and about...is you."

I didn't like the tone from Erik's voice. It sounds much more commanding and omniscient than it was before, only heightening my nervousness. I question my mind and wonder if this is the beginning of something much worse.

 _Am I...delusional?_

I draw my sword and point it at Erik. I demanded, "What type of cruel joke is this?! How do you know my name?! Explain yourself!"

He stares at the blade at my tip as if it were harmless to him. That may as well have been the case. He said, "There's nothing to explain, as you know the answer yourself. You should just be glad I'm not an agent of that accursed doctor."

 _Doctor?_

He's referring to the plague doctor that's been visiting me in my dreams. He's the single reason I haven't had a decent night of sleep in little under a month, though I'm curious about how Erik knew him.

I said, "How...how do you know him? Am I dreaming?"

Erik smiled, "I don't know why you haven't caught onto it already. You and I both know the north wing doesn't exist in Castle Laus. In addition, why would I be speaking to you if I've been unconscious since this afternoon?"

That makes sense...I think. Something still doesn't add up, like the identity of this entity before me. Not like I'm in any mood to complain; this is the first dream I've had in a while that's gone along relatively peacefully.

I said, "Fair point. If this is a dream, and I'm thinking it is, then what are you? I assume you're not the real Erik, correct?"

He nods, "I'm a being that's been with you since the very start, though I've only appeared in your darkest moments. That's what I think I am, however. I've only surmised this because of the memories you keep in your conciousness."

This...thing we'll call it, is not Sothis nor is it Azazel. It appears to be an entity cradling between the realms of reality and fiction, though that's all I can put together with the current information.

I asked, "So...what are you? My conscious?"

Erik shrugged, "Perhaps. Let me speak to you in my true form. I think it may answer some of your questions..."

 _!_

Suddenly, a ball of light illuminates the dark cell, only to disappear just as quickly. I rub my eyes to see Erik's clothes strewn out on the floor messily, though some...creature frolicked inside its new cloth-like den.

The creature pok es it head out from the pile, revealing a cute, and adorable brown ferret with a white face.

I said, "No way."

What came next was equally jarring. The ferret...opened its mouth to _speak_. It talked with an accent as graceful as the tongue they shared in the British Isles.

It said, "Hello. This is my true form. If you wish to pet me, you may."

I decline, but only after I bit my tongue. These amazing rodents were my favorite animals growing up as a kid, and I recall having one in my home during grade school. Why this "thing" became one was a question I do not know the answer to, though I fear the reason may have some dark undertones.

Thankfully, those concerns were unfounded.

I said, "I...why are you a ferret?"

It replied, "I don't know. But using your previous deductions, if I am a materialization of your consciousness, then I should appear in the form of something you treasure."

Baffled, I wanted to test how deep this ferret's knowledge of me went. I asked, "Do...you know why I like ferrets?"

It replied, "You love ferrets because of their fluffy fur and warm bodies. That is all I know."

 _Interesting. This ferret can recall the past, but only certain details. He's restricted to referring things in the present tense too._

Wanting for more information, I asked it about its name. I asked, "What...can I call you?"

It said, "You...may call me whatever you like. Just as long as it's not something too ridiculous, I will wear any name given to me by my master with pride."

"Master?"

It nodded, "Are you not the master of this realm? The voidwalker from another world?"

"I...think I am. Now...what should I call you?"

"..."

I cross my arms over my body and think long and hard about the name I should give this "thing". If it's indeed my conciousness, then I give it a name to reflect the respect I have for it.

The ferret looks on with patience, and it smiles when it sees that I had finally come to a decision.

I said, "Your name will be Phileas."

Phileas nodded approvingly, "A fine name, and I will accept it. Ah...it appears the fog is clearing up. Our time today is coming to end."

He shakes himself of his overgrown chains and trots in between the bars of his cell. I look on blankly, though I quickly notice his slight limp.

I asked, "Phileas! Are you injured?"

He shook his head, "Just a small cyst underneath my paw. Do not fret about it, master. It will not slow me down."

Before leaving, he tells me one last thing. His mannerisms suggest it is of great importance. He said, "Watch yourself, young master. Do not venture forth alone and always keep your watch handy."

Confused, I replied, "Watch myself?! What do you mean?"

Phileas ignores me, and then disappears past a corner. I churn my legs to chase him, but I'm overwhelmed by the sight of a bright white light.

"What the—"

I fight against the sensation to wake up, and I call out Phileas' name in a vain attempt to bring him back. I exclaimed, "Phileas! Phileas! Get back here! Phileas!"

But they fall on deaf ears. Eventually, my eyes shut close despite my best efforts, and I'm transported to a world I'm all too familiar.

In other words, I wake up...

* * *

 **Chapter ?: Change**

 **By SodiumChloride12, derived from Fire Emblem, owned by Nintendo**

 _Of Kai receiving a very special letter_.

Kai Caelin is a fourteen-year-old boy from a village near Bulgar, Sacae. He's a green-haired lad who lived most of his life helping his mother on their orchard, a quaint little place famous for producing apples, apricots, and peaches. He lived there happily with his mother, a beautiful woman named Lyn, and single sister, a white-haired girl named Lani for the past thirteen years of his life. Although the goings were comfortable, Kai wanted more.

His family used to be bigger than it is now. At one point, he had an additional sister and a father living with him on the orchard, but his sister disappeared shortly after his father passed away from some unexplainable illness. His mother, of whom he owed his hair color to, left him and his sister with Marquess Pharae while she went off to search for her lost sibling. It took her three years to return, and afterwards they went back to their mother's homeland. His mother never mentioned what had happened during her leave of absence, though the somber mood that would arise during her daughter's birthday implied enough.

The daughter, a white-haired girl named Carmel, was Kai's older twin sister. Kai didn't remember much about her other than a few glimpses from his younger years, most of which occurred during the trip his parents took them on during the year of 987. He seldom finds much reason to think about her either, between the orchard and the relationships he had with his two remaining family, there wasn't much reason to. Besides, losing family members was a commonplace thing in the land of Elibe, so time was better spent cherishing the family you still have than mourning over the ones you lost.

Kai loves his mother and sister dearly. He often spends long hours blissfully recanting stories with them on the orchard, and they'd return with interesting tales of their own. Sometimes Lani would mention humorous memories they shared in the schoolhouse just down the road, and they'd laugh as they reminisced about those simpler times. His mother would touch on a few tales about his father, a person who in Kai's eyes, was a troubled soul with problems of his own. He did not understand why his mother would bother to marry a fugitive like him, but in the words of his mother's friend Florina: "Love is the ultimate equalizer".

To make things short, he seldom asked questions about him. Just like his twin sister. To do so would bring pain to his mother, and that was something to avoid when possible. His personality prohibited such things...

Now, what of Kai the person? In terms of size, he's rather unremarkable. He stands at about five feet and two inches, a height below average among people of his age. He's neither handsome nor ugly, though his mother says that he'll grow into a rather handsome young man once his jawline develops further. In terms of strength, he's a little below average amongst the other farm boys in the village, though still strong by noble terms. He's introverted and keeps to himself when allowed to, but will not hesitate to dwell into conversation should the situation require it. This also had the inverse effect of making him intelligent and well-read when compared to the other children in the village, but his uniqueness ended there.

With all this in mind, Kai expected to live and work in the orchard for his entire life. In four years he'll graduate school and acquire management of the orchard so his mother could finally rest her tired hands, afterward Kai will take on a wife from the unremarkable populace here in the village. It'll probably be one of his nice school friends, like Lucy or Sarah, or perhaps even Lani since they share no blood relation. He'll work until he became of retirement age, after which he'll hand the orchard down to his offspring. It'll be a bland but peaceful existence faraway from the excitement and dangers of the outside world. It'll be everything Kai ever wanted from life...right?

That fate all changed when Lani came scurrying through the village with a look of wonder across her face. She burst through the front door like a cannonball breaking through the air, shocking Kai and Lyn, who were both busy making lunch in the kitchen. Although Lani's mannerisms made Lyn fear that some disaster had befallen on the orchard, Kai looks on with secretive joy that something had finally broken the dull monotony of his day.

She said, "Aunt Lyn! There's an unusual cloaked man looking for you. He said he knows you and brings a message from Marquess Ostia."

 _Marquess Ostia_ , Kai thought. _I wonder what business he has with Mom._

Marquess Ostia was the most powerful man in all of Lycia. He and his mother were friends dating back to a time before Kai was even born, and he'd met the man at a New Year's ball last year. He was a respectable imposing figure who must've spent years perfecting the politicking that often infested royal courts, though he treated Kai and his sister kindly. He even introduced them to his daughter Lilina, who is a friend of Kai's own Roy. Recalling the memory sends a short burst of joy through Kai's body; that day was a joyful occasion that united Roy, Kai, Lilina, and Lani together for a night of fun. It truly was something the young man would never forget...

Lyn puts down her cutting knife and asks Kai to help her quickly settle their business. Turning towards Laniakea, she said, "Very well. Go ahead and invite him to our household. I'm sure he must be tired from the long journey."

"Okay Aunt Lyn."

Laniakea takes her leave while Kai and Lyn did their best to wrap up dinner. The dish is an old favorite of the family, an old Sacaen broth derived from pork. However, the thought of devouring this delicious dish isn't enough to quell the curiosity from Kai's mind. He wonders about the inflection that his mother put into her words earlier, or rather the sense that she knew more than she put on.

Unable to hold in his interest, Kai asked, "Mother, do you know the messenger?"

Lyn nods, and then briefly reflected on a long distance memory. Her face wrinkles as she remembered the sounds of war. She said, "Yes. The man's name is Matthew, an old acquaintance of your father."

 _Matthew..._

Kai nodded politely, careful to not cross over any thought-provoking line. He said, "I see. What business does he have with us?"

Lyn sighs, as if reluctant to tell Kai about what she knew. However, even she understood that holding that information was would only serve to negatively affect her son. She said, "He wants to offer you and Lani admission to a school."

Hearing those words causes Kai's ears to perk up. _A school?_ _A way out from this boring place?_

Hardly containing his excitement, he inquired, "Which school, mother? Is it Gordonstoun in Etruria? Columbia in Bern? Perhaps even the Abbey in Kafti?"

"..."

Lyn hesitates and brings her son close. The fear in her grasp is damning. This leaves Kai speechless, though he soon understands why. Lyn, his mother, did not want to let his little boy go.

"Mom..."

Lyn sniffles and wipes a tear out her eye. Composing herself, she finally says the words Kai's been waiting.

"You and Lani will be invited to the Academy of Atalonia, in Ostia. It...is one of the most prestigious learning institutions in the land..."

* * *

 **A/N: I probably won't be writing the sequel for another...six months. On a side note, I'm developing a short mini-series for Three Houses. It's a fairly interesting premise, and I should have the first chapter out by the end of the weekend.**


	57. Lover’s Return

**Chapter 52: Lover's Return**

 **By SodiumChloride12, derived from Fire Emblem, owned by Nintendo.**

 **A/N: I have a lot going next week with school tests and orgs. I'm feeling a little burnt out too, so I think I will take a week off. I'll try to not make this a habit, but I'll be back on the 28th.**

 **I will be honest. This chapter was draining to write. Prepare yourself for the darkest chapter I've ever written [on Valentine's Day lmao].**

 **N: We set our sights on Lady Lyn, who's doing her best to acclimate to her new lifestyle. Unfortunately, her peaceful life with Florina and her grandfather is about to come to an abrupt end.**

* * *

 **Several days ago, Castle Caelin...**

The air is calm at Castle Caelin. The morning sun smiles on the land, granting its warmth to the worn stone walls of the old fortress. People quietly coarse through the winding halls watchful for any discrepancies, though others are content to go about their day.

One of these people was Lyn, a sacaen princess late to her tutoring session with her teacher, Governess Estelle. Ever since she first arrived here, Lyn's been going through an extensive program to teach her all the intricacies behind a noble lady of class. She'd spent months practicing learning how to speak a specific way, eat a specific way, and even stand a certain way. She acquaintanted herself with the difficult politicking behind the Lycian court and spent several hours learning how to dance in a ballroom setting. All of this took a monumental amount of effort from Lyn's part, and although she's gone far in the way of becoming a proper lady, she still had so much to learn.

Lyn feels her stomach churn as she placed her hand above Estelle's doorknob. Despite all the willpower she'd put towards this effort, this was not what Lyn's been desiring for herself. What she desired was a return to the life she once knew, a quiet and stress-free existence back in the plains of her childhood. She often had dreams filled with the seas of green grass she loved, but she wondered if the day would ever come that she could return.

 _At least not while my grandfather is still here,_ Lyn thought.

She did not hate her grandfather by any means, in fact the opposite was true, Lyn loved him dearly. He was the last family she had left ever since her parents died all those years ago, and she had to admit that she enjoyed her time with him. He's very kind and considerate towards his granddaughter, but even then Lyn understood that she could not loaf around while the nation went about with its affairs. She had to take on the duties of a princess and heir to the throne, otherwise her father would become the ridicule of the nation.

Lyn kept herself going every day with the thought what she was doing was better for the greater good. The people of Caelin needed a monarch for the future, one was strong enough to fend off the leering interests of much stronger cantons nearby. Her presence served as a reassurance to her family's commitment...and she understood the grave consequences should she fail.

While toiling away in the classroom, Lyn learned of Caelin's tumultuous history. The canton's only existed little over 800 years, during which it's been the victim to many incursions. These included about 300 border skirmishes, 50 invasions, and 5 instances where the crown was driven out of Castle Caelin. The canton was the victim of many power hungry enemies, a problem compounded by Caelin's unique geography struggles.

There were some mountains defending Castle Caelin's direct vicinity, but the rest of its territory unfortunately rested in the center of Wheat Valley, a long plain that supported most Lycia's agricultural industry. Although this feature led to famine rarely being a problem to Caelics, this also made their position very vulnerable because of the lack of natural defenses. So far, Caelin's maintained its existence due to the royal family's shrewd ally-making ability through the centuries, though it could take only one person to crash it all down.

Sometimes, Lyn just wanted to shut herself in her room and just pray that these responsibilities would just go away. The additional stress increased the anxiety flowing through her body, and she there were a few instances where she nearly snapped at a servant. One of these people was her dear Florina, a friend who served as a grim reminder of the life she used to live.

...

Such thoughts were best left unpondered. She should just be grateful Florina didn't bear witness to the ugly tension brewing in her heart...

Shifting her attention back towards the original matter, she pushes the door open, revealing a small room complete with a chalkboard and a single chair. Standing nearby smoking from a pipe is Governess Estelle, who did not take a liking to her student's lateness.

Lifting the glass ornament from her lips, she said, "Ah, Lady Lyndis. Pleasure to see you. Do you have an explanation for your tardiness?"

Lyn replied, "Yes. I've returned from my instructor's lesson of court dancing. It was a rather fruitful affair, although it took a little too much time."

Governess Estelle nods approvingly and invited Lyn to her seat. The latter accepts and while waiting for her teacher to begin instruction, puffed out her chest confidently like she was taught.

 _Convey confidence wherever you go. You cannot show the smallest shred of weakness, otherwise this can invite enemies to make their move._

Estelle said, "Lady Lyndis. Has Mademoiselle Florina informed you of your appointment with Doctor Swift this afternoon?"

Estelle is from a small region in northern Etruria. There they spoke an unusual dialect of Elibean that borrowed some words from an old tongue, though that language has since vanished with the passage of time.

Lyn replied, "She has. I'm told he wants to give me a brief check up before his schedule gets too crowded."

 _I hope it's nothing more than a check-up. I'm terribly afraid of doctors._

Estelle said, "Let's hope he finds nothing wrong with you then, at least not anything I haven't found already. Open your textbook to page 287 your highness. Today, I'll be teaching you some basic arithmetic..."

* * *

 **Present...**

Today, I received news of our next destination. It's a place I'm all too familiar with for all the wrong reasons, and the materialization of all of my past mistakes. Where else could we have gone, besides the mystical land of Caelin?

Caelin...yeah. I still have an unfulfilled death warrant there, and a bounty too worth 5000 gold. With that amount of money someone could buy a house somewhere and live on their own terms far away from the serfdom so commonplace in this land, but I digress. I've yet to run into an assassin, though Azazel's reputation probably did much to scare many would-be bounty hunters away. In hindsight, I'm more concerned about what will happen when we get there.

Hearing about our pending arrival sends a chill down my spine. Although I was confident in my mask's ability to hide my identity, it was our mission that brought me anxiety. Our scouts informed us that the Lausian army has the Caelic crown besieged inside their own castle, with the army powerless to stop them. Not like they had a chance to begin with; Azazel's rampage several months ago guaranteed that much.

I've yet to shake the pitiful memories of that slaughter. Azazel cut down the rank and file like they were livestock, unfeeling as he decimated the knightly ranks. He destroyed much of the southern wall, not holding back on what surely resulted from many months of labor. He threatened my friends like they were mere toys for him and nearly took the life of one of them...

 _What was her name again...?_

Feeling a little dizzy, I beckon Serra for her attention. We were on the march together while the sun shined high in the sky, though I've scarcely spoken to her. After a while, you run out of things to talk about, so silence was a huge mainstay in our constant travels. I asked, "Serra. What was the name of that nurse from Castle Caelin? I think she had blonde hair and blue eyes..."

Serra takes out her journal and starts going through it to spy a mention of the girl I'd just mentioned. It takes some time, but she finds her. She replied, "Her name is Taliyah. I'm unsure on how you know her though. Isn't this your first time to Castle Caelin?"

 _!_

My chest sinks. My failing memory is _really_ starting to become a liability, especially in matters like this. Short for time, I tell her the first reasonable explanation that came to my mind.

I said, "I...know her from a mutual acquaintance. Nothing more."

Satisfied with my answer, she shrugged her shoulders. She said, "Huh. Small world."

"Y-Yeah..."

Finding nothing else to talk about, we spend the rest of the morning in quiet anticipation for the battle to come...

* * *

Castle Caelin is a fortress nestled in the heart of Wheat Valley, a large plain fit for agriculture. Little geographical features protect the capital besides a few wooded areas flanked by a single mountain overlooking the domain. The castle itself is relatively new, though recent damage to it robbed it of much of its structural integrity. I can't help but wonder how long the Caelic army could withstand a surprise siege with little preparation.

Eliwood asked, "How long do you think Caelin will last? Do you suppose we can arrive before they break ranks?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "Beats me. I hear part of their outer fortifications were destroyed several months ago. Couple that with the Lausian numbers advantage, and I figure they won't even survive the day."

Eliwood bites his lip after hearing that. I don't know how the young man can keep himself composed in times like these, but I suppose that is the way of the Lycian gentleman.

He said calmly, "We must hurry then. Tell the others of my intentions."

"As you wish."

Although Eliwood wasn't willing to say it himself, what he had just ordered was a forced march. It's a long, non-stop march conducted in double-time often unpopular with the soldiers; but I doubt many of them will complain. Several of us have interests with the Kingdom of Caelin...including myself...

 **...**

The march was draining to both our energy and our moral. By the time we reached the outskirts of the capital a few of our own had already collapsed from exhaustion. Five days of non-stop marching through plains will do that to a person, no matter how resolute their fortitude.

With my person anxiously over a cliff, I peer over at the situation with some binoculars. To my dismay my previous prediction turns out to be right, men in Lausian uniforms covered the entire castle alongside its nearby town. They appear to have infiltrated the castle as well, though for how long I don't know...

I gulp and let the attached binoculars fall onto my collar. Even with all of our effort, all of our sacrifice, it was time that became our undoing. The despair quelling inside my heart beats against my chest like a hammer, but I'm too numb with it to cry out. Instead, I muttered, "By the Creator...we're too late."

I keep my voice low as to not dishearten the others, but Eliwood hears me anyway. He looks at me with eyes I could've sworn belonged to somebody else.

He said, "Please tell me you're joking."

I shake my head and give him my binoculars. He only had his eyes on them for two seconds until he couldn't bear to watch it anymore. He said, "Darin...that blasted curr. He will pay for this."

I said, "I recommend we rest our troops for the day and pursue further actions in the morning. We can't undo what's already been done, and acting now will only spell disaster for us. If Darin has a shred of dignity left, he would've imprisoned the noble family, as is stated in the rules agreed upon at the Lycian conference of 506."

 _Lyn, Sain, Kent, Florina...please be safe._

Eliwood sighs and then looks back towards the rest of our "army". At this point, none of them were within an inch of battle-readiness. They carried expressions of exhaustion across their faces, and the pack animals laid their heads low. One could even claim they appeared more dead than alive. The sight reminded me of the walkers I used to fight in Swampmarsh.

Keeping his heart firm, he told them, "We will rest and set up camp. May the Creator bless us with her grace..."

* * *

 **Later...**

I'm carrying Rebecca in my arms. The energetic teenager passed out midway through the camp-making process, and no one else had the energy to pick her up from the dirty ground. I can scarcely blame them; my own weaknesses are catching up to me too.

I set the girl up against a tree and I begin work setting up her resting place. With nails and fabric firmly in my grasp, I toiled hard to accomplish a task that would've been elementary had it not been for my stiffening exhaustion...

 **...**

"Hwaaaaugh!"

I set the last nail, and happy with my labor, I take a knee. A drop of warm sweat drips down the side of my face like a humble reminder of my own limits. Short for breath, I muttered, "Done."

Taking a moment to recover my bearings, I stand up and lift Rebecca from her unconscious position. The weight of her felt much worse now after what I'd just done, though I didn't care. Rebecca is my friend, and it's my duty to look after those I care about.

I lie Rebecca down on a makeshift futon composed of blankets, and cover her with one. Turning my back in her, I take my leave and revel in the sunlight once more, pleased with how everything turned out...

"You didn't have to do that, you know."

Matthew pokes his head out from a nearby bush expecting a surprised tactician, but comes up short. I've known this sly thief long enough to consider such unannounced appearances as trivialities, and looking at him with tired eyes, I replied, "You know just as well as I that I've led a life of sin. With that considered, wouldn't you think I'd want to blow away the flames of hell...if only a little?"

Matthew laughs, "Heh. I never took you as the religious type. What are you gonna do, retire from this war life and become a monk in some faraway monastery?"

I balked, "Heck no. I wouldn't consider myself a god-fearing individual, but I most certainly fear hell. I...I've been there. I want to do everything to avoid it again."

Upon hearing that Matthew raises a brow. He can't quite make out what I'm trying to say, much less derive any meaning from it. He asked, "I don't think I know what you mean. By hell, are you referring to the eternal punishment we face after death, or the looming promise of a cold cell should your identity ever come out?"

I replied coldly, "The evil in this world has me convinced the god overlooking this world is not benevolent in nature. In my culture, we'd call this being the devil. The devil will stop at nothing to make sure I spent the last years of my existence behind bars, but I won't let it."

"The whole world is out to get me. I can't trust anyone...not even you..."

"..."

Matthew lifts his collar to let loose anxious heat emitting from his body. I'm oblivious to the...crazed expression on my face. My disheveled facial hair drops over my dilated eyes to form the perfect painting of insanity.

Matthew said, "Lieutenant, forgive me for saying this, but you're sounding a little delusional right now. Lie down for a bit, maybe get some rest. I can reassure you there's no one out to get you."

I replied plainly, "Except for everybody apparently. Might I remind you I have the death penalty in three countries, and a warrant for my arrest in four?"

"..."

Matthew goes silent, and I'm left lamenting over my situation within the boundaries of my own mind. The very grass under my feet feel like they secretly harbored knives to cut short my life, and the anxiety in my blood thickens.

After what felt like an eternity, I finally broke the silence. In hindsight, I did feel quite tired. I said, "Fine. I'm going to set up my hammock. Good night to you."

Matthew nods silently, and I retire away into nearby woods. Watching him leave strikes me with a sense of suspicion building towards myself, likely because of conversation we just shared. I'm unsure of what'll happen after this, but I am sure of one thing.

My mind, which at one point was my greatest asset, was now becoming my greatest liability.

* * *

 **That night...**

I...can't sleep. I've been tossing and turning non stop on this hammock for...six hours. The moon shining in the night sky feels like a dagger piercing my eyeballs, and the trees overhead did little to help ease my pain. This...I don't know how much more I can take. I've been awake for six _straight_ days.

Frustrated with the current state of things, I weasel out of my bed and took a little walk. The air is silent as I weaved through the calm forest floor, though I feel that I'm at the cusp of vomiting.

 _Can this get any worse?!_

"Samuel."

 _!_

Hearing that voice sends a burst of adrenaline through my body. It sounded like a ghost had come across my poor self. I draw my sword and point my weapon towards a nearby bush. I exclaimed, "Who goes there?"

Nothing replies. Never one to lose the initiative, I cleave through the bush like my life depended on it.

 _Attack now. Ask questions later. I won't be killed today!_

The bush separates into the two pieces, but no blood spills onto the earth. Other than the vegetation, I'd cut through air.

 _What the..._

"Samuel...are you going to let her die too?"

This time, the voice came from a vine high above me. It sounds cryptic and almost taunting to my character. I jump up and bring my arm to bear, cutting through that just as easily as the bush. However, just like the bush...my aggression appears unfounded.

Frustrated, I exclaimed, "What's going on here?!"

"..."

I eye my environment anxiously, waiting for the smallest hint of movement. A brief, brisk gust of wind blows my hair back, taunting me like some inevitable truth. The tension in the air is so thick I could cut it like a knife...

"Samuel. Are you going to let her die? Just like you did with Erk?"

I replied anxiously, "H-How do you know my name? How do you know Erk? Who are you talking about?"

This voice...the more I think about it one thing becomes clear. It didn't just come from one singular directions. It...came from _every_ direction.

The voice replied, "I'm speaking about Lyn. She's being tortured in cell...how can you live with that? You know they'll kill her eventually, or worse. Darin showed no reservation towards that Priscilla girl."

"..."

I take out my fire tone and point my hand towards the air. I cried out, "I swear to the Creator, I will blow up whatever is within a short radius of myself if you don't REVEAL YOURSELF RIGHT NOW!"

"..."

"Do what you must, but that doesn't detract from what's going on."

I put my hand down, and then anxiously brush my hair. This...thing didn't want to kill me. In fact, it purely seemed content with extracting any and all discomfort from my being.

Defeated, I said, "You win...you win. W-What do you want from me?"

It replied, "It's not what I want...it's what _you_ want."

This voice isn't making any sense. What does it mean by its perturbed riddles? More importantly, how does it know about specific details pertaining to Lyn, Priscilla, Erk, and myself? Nobody else on this planet knows about these things, nobody except...

Me.

 _!_

Paralyzed in shock, I come to a cruel realization. In between my sleep deprivation, myriad of head injuries, an constant emotional trauma...I was now experiencing my introduction to schizophrenia.

 _Oh. No...no no no no no no no._

 _This voice doesn't exist...does it?_

I said, "I'm delusional. Oh my God...I've finally reached the deep end. All this time...all this bullc*. My mind is falling apart..."

The voice replied, "Starting to feel the CTE, aren't you Samuel? All of those concussions have disintegrated a tenth of your brain to mush. A quarter more continues to worsen. Haven't you noticed it already? Your memory loss...how extreme does it have to be until you finally recognize the inception of dementia?"

I...should've noticed this sooner. At first it just started with migraines, and then memory loss. After that, these two things started getting worse and worse, eventually leading to my first lapse, Erk's smile on his deathbed. However, even though I'm aware of my new condition, my rationality no longer captains my decision-making abilty. I'm powerless to it now, a slave to this disease.

 _..._

The voice said, "You don't have to accept it now, it's a lot to take in at once. However, you put your body on the line for a cause...and now you need to deal with the consequences of that. However, before you do that, you need to go save Lyn. Right now."

I said, "I c-can't. I'm...too weak. My friends are in no state to do anything either."

The voice replied, "You don't need them. You _are_ strong enough. Go towards the Castle right now. You know you can sneak through those idiot soldiers."

I said, "I don't...no. Darin will respect the conference, I know it."

The voice said, "Are you sure? Samuel, go look behind that bush over there. The one you just cut."

An overwhelming sense of fear strikes me, but I obey anyway. I push away the prickling spines and cast my eyes on...

 _..._

"No..."

Florina lay dead on the earth with her arms strung out like a broken porcelain doll. Her lavender hair was caked black from a sticky mess of crimson...her blood. _Fresh_ blood.

I said, "No...no no no. Florina...why? Laus...Laus will pay..."

The voice said, "Laus? Laus didn't do this. Pity. She had escaped the fate of her friends to request assistance beyond the castle walls, only to get shot down by a Lausian soldier. She crawled through the underbelly of this forest until she passed out from exhaustion behind this bush. The very same you cut through in your bid to harm me."

"What?!"

I look down on my blade, and to my horror I realize it was drenched in an eerie red liquid. I...had killed Florina. Me...myself. I am the killer of my lover's best friend...and my friend too.

Florina...I didn't deserve her. She was one of the sweetest, most innocent souls to ever grace the earth. I...remember sharing memories of happiness with her under the campfire. But that's what they just are...only memories. Figments of conscious dwelling within my own deteriorating mind. Eventually, the day will come when I will forget her...

I said, "How...how can this be? I...oh my..."

My head goes faint and I nearly pass out. However, the voice calls out to me before I can do just that. It said, "You can't pass out here. The army will find you, and they'll hang you. The only way you can redeem yourself is by rescuing Lady Lyn. You must go. You must."

I pleaded, "No...this is irrational. That's abject to suicide!"

The voice snickered, "Nothing good ever came out of you using your head. Besides, you've got two choices. Stay and die, or leave for a sliver of hope. You've got a girl to protect, why are you going to abandon her now?"

The voice is manipulating me to do something for it, but I'm too distraught to care. All I want is a way out from this suffering. Someway to make this all right.

I said, "You're...right. I need to go rescue her...right now."

"Get on with it."

I stand up and brush off some dust from my uniform. Looking ahead, I sheathe my bloodied sword and march on ahead towards my destination...

Castle Caelin...

* * *

I...did it. I snuck through the enemy lines like a bat flapping through the night, dodging every mounted sentry easily. These simpletons didn't even bother to keep the entire perimeter on watch, and their incompetence allowed me to enter Castle Caelin through the same rubble Azazel created all those months ago.

I walk through the familiar hallways, ignoring the chilling lack of blood covering the walls. My intuition screams at me to consider the absence of bodies that should've been here in the event of a battle, but at this point its pleas falls on deaf ears. I am beyond reason now.

Oddly, the Lausian military opted not to enforce sentries inside the perimeter of the castle. In fact, they didn't have a presence in here at all. It's like an invisible disease of sorts inflicted the castle, and the perimeter outside did not serve to keep people out, but to keep whatever lurked in here in. This theory did well to give me an ever increasing sense of anxiety, though not much else.

I muttered, "If I recall, they kept all the prisoners in the basement. I should head there."

I tiptoe to a nearby stairwell, ever mindful of the slightest leering shadow. Going down its spiraling steps, my footsteps echo through the air like a small pounding drum.

"Murmur...murmur..."

"Whisper...whisper..."

I hear two faint voices down at the bottom of the stairwell, and I stop on my tracks. The first voice sounds like it had a muffled French-accent, while the second is deeper and carried a royal flair.

The first voice said, "Very good. I'm glad to have your assistance in this matter, Lord Darin."

 _Lord Darin?_

The second voice, which I presumed to belong to Lord Darin, replied, "It's the best I can do for your efforts, Doctor. I only came here because Ephidel said you'd hand me Castle Caelin in a bloodless manner. If it weren't for you, I'm afraid we'd be in dire straits."

 _Bloodless manner? The Caelic army didn't fight?_

The "Doctor" said, "Just allow me to continue my research and I'll consider this debt settled. I wish to rid the world of a disease named the Pestilence. It was dictated to me by my master...Nergal."

 _!_

Is...this the doctor from my dreams? No, that can't be possible. It shouldn't be. Or is it?

 _I wish to rid the world of a disease named the Pestilence._

I gasped. There's no doubt in my mind now. This doctor...and the one from my dreams are one and the same. With that realization came another. In every encounter I had with this...thing...they all ended the same way...

With my death.

 _I need to get out of here!_

Suddenly, the voices cease their conversation. The air is eerily still over everything but the panicked vibrations of my heart, and I stand waiting for any sign of danger.

"..."

I gulped.

The "Doctor" said, "Ah. It appears we have a guest nearby. I thought you said you had men posted at the perimeter?"

 _!_

My cover's blown. A shot of adrenaline rush through my veins, and I quickly shoot my way up the steps at a frantic pace. The mossy, cracked cobblestones walls at my sides turn into a blur as my tired legs pounded against the hard floor. The fear going through my mind was indescribable and split-second flashbacks of my past nightmares brought me unsettling torment.

 _You are sick, Samuel..._

 _You will die from the Pestilence..._

 _Please...allow me to cure you of your ailment..._

 _"Just as I have done with your friends..."_

That last remark chills me to the bone. I thought it was a flashback from my dreams, but in reality the sensation feels too real to be a simple recalled memory. It sounds like...someone is speaking to me...

 _!_

I pause below an old painting that displayed the likeness of Lyn's mother; the honorable Lady Madelyn. I'm somewhere in Castle Caelin's southern wing, an L-shaped corridor that held many of the building's hospital rooms. As a former patient returning here for the first time since my initial hospitalization, I should be filling the moment with nostalgic memories. It would've been that way, had it not been for the lone swordswoman blocking my path.

I take in a sigh of relief. "Lyn! Oh my God! You're alive!"

I drop my sword onto the ground and wrap my...friend in a warm embrace. I'm like a child with tears falling down the sides of my face, ever oblivious to Lyn's newfound silent nature.

I said, "L-Lyn...I messed up. Really bad. I...I just want to make this all right. I know your heart is with someone else...but I just can't handle it anymore. My mind's all over the place. L-Let's just...get out of here. It's dangerous."

In hindsight, saying all those things at once probably wasn't the best idea. Any rational human being would've recognized me for the crazed lunatic I was and pushed me away. However, Lyn was not a rational human being. At least...not the way she is now...

Holding Lyn tighter, I wonder why her skin is as cold as ice. At first, I think it's because of the relatively cold air in the atmosphere...but then I realize something. The air _isn't_ cold. We're in the latter end of summer on one of the more temperate regions of the continent. Why...is her skin cold...and clammy?

I gently nudge Lyn away from me and allow the moonlight to better illuminate her face. What I see...is nothing less than my worst nightmare.

To my horror her skin is gray and radiated with death. Her darkened green hair carried none of the shine it did before, and her eyes look at me with that unmistakable shade of gold...

 _Lyn...no..._

"..."

 _!_

A swift, metallic blade cleaves through my stomach, and I fall onto the floor with zero feeling in my legs. The top portion of my body is severed from the rest of it...with the assailant having cut clean through my spinal cord. The cold stone around me is quickly covered with a cursed blessing of my blood.

I said, "W-Why...L-Ly— Ack!"

I cough up crimson and paint the floor in a grim interpretation of modern art. I lose my ability to speak, and slowly my perception turns into a haze.

 _This hurts...so much..._

I look up to see Lyn's... or what's left of her peer at me with her golden pair of robotics eyes. My blood splattered about her body like a woman who had just murdered her troubled lover, but I understood that was not the case. Lyn would never do something like this, at least not this coldly. Lyn had _emotion_.

This..."thing" in front of me is not Lyn. It's a morph, constructed from her quintessential husk.

The morph sheathed its sword and raises its head, like a servant showing respect towards its master. I turn my head with the last vestiges of strength I possessed, and feasted my eyes on a man wearing a long, black brimmed hat.

He's...the splitting image of Doctor Swift. Same outfit and everything. The only difference is his hunched-posture, though that's only a minor detraction from the larger picture.

Gasping for air, I said, "Doctor Swift. You fiend...you're responsible for this aren't you?"

The Doctor looks down on my bloodied heap and slightly tilts his head with intrigue. He replied, "Doctor Swift? I am a Doctor, but I do not go by the name Swift. Perhaps you've confused me for someone else...just like my assistant did earlier."

 _Assistant?_

I said, "Assist— Ack!"

I cough up another pint of blood. There will be no more words.

The Doctor said, "Shhhh...rest now. When you expire, I will finally rid you of the Pestilence that's taken host in your body. You are sick...very, very sick."

...

Shaking from blood loss, I fight for what felt like an eternity to prevent the inevitable. I recall old memories spent with Lani, my friends, and finally Lyn...

 _"Samuel, let's keep each other safe. At times like now, we only have each other to rely on..."_

 _"I can't hold these feelings anymore, Sam. I love you. Please, I don't know what to do."_

 _"It's settled then! You'll be my bold tactician, and I'll be your peerless warrior!"_

Quietly, I lament over that old promise we made over a year ago. It was foolish for me to think I could've ever been the tactician Lyn wanted me to be. I'm utterly incompetent and far too receptive to my emotions. I'm arrogant to both my peers and enemies, along with being a virtual non-contributor in most battles. All of this mixed to become an explosive cocktail my friend Eliwood was too amiable to recognize, and the result will cripple not only myself but his cause. My actions will leave the army without a tactician, likely lead to Eliwood never finding his father, and most importantly, fail to keep those I love safe. I am truly the most despicable of failures, deserving of a paragraph in the history of terrible military leaders.

 _I'm too weak..._

Closing my eyes, my last sight is of the doctor's gleaming gold orbs bleeding through his mask. I have plenty of regrets, like knowing Lani chance for survival will end with me. I wonder how this outcome would've changed if I possessed even an ounce more of strength. If I was stronger, would I have just killed these two morphs outright and carried on with my mission? Would I have had the mental fortitude to see through the fog and recognized Florina in the vegetation? Would I...have been able to prevent Nergal from ruining my world...and continue living with Lani in the peace?

 _Sometimes, it takes strength to find true peace..._

There's no avoiding this fate now. In the past, I was lucky to receive blessings to avoid death...but I fear not even a blessing from a god can prevent this. I will die here today, and there's nothing I can do it about. As is the case with many things in my life: I'm simply too weak.

Too weak...

...

I take my last breath...and fall into the void.

* * *

 **?...**

Life is a delicate thing. It's both the subject of much anticipation and much anxiety. Some people spend their entire lives fearing the end, while others live despite it. As for Samuel, there was one point in his life that he could claim he belonged to the latter camp, but now that is no longer the case...

 _You shouldn't live your life in fear, Lumina. Cherish it, because you'll never know when the end will come._

Those were words Samuel told Lumina, a woman he saw as nothing less than his sister. He used to be much more enthusiastic before the alcohol, trauma, and loss gripped his psyche to levels he never intended them to reach. This resulted in visions grounded in fiction, likely the prolonged product of months of sustained brain injuries.

Samuel could never achieve his goals the way he is now. The mountain to climb is too steep to climb in one lifetime. He ran out of strength halfway through reaching the top, and he fell down with a dramatic and stiffening crack. What else is there to do but regret over what could have been, and retreat to the grave in shame? Fortunately, Samuel will not share that fate.

He enjoys a luxury not shared with many other climbers. Unlike his peers, he will not have a single lifetime to climb this difficult mountain called life...

He...will have two.

* * *

 **On a snowy hill somewhere...**

Cold wind blows through the frigid mountains of Illia. The smoldering embers of a disaster illuminated faraway like a glittering lightbulb, and the new moon cakes the land in darkness. A single purple-cloaked body lies soaking in the snow, his clothes drenched in frozen crimson.

He lies there like a boulder encapsulated in time. He's oblivious to the surrounding environment, especially so to the translucent green-haired goddess standing before him.

* * *

"..."

"Wake up..."

I lightly fidget and wrap myself tighter in my garb. The thick cloth is warm...and very comfortable.

"Come on, wake up. I've been waiting for hours."

I ignore that child-like, yet antiquated voice. It's better that I just continue...to...sleep...

"Ugh. I can't believe you. First you go out and act stupid, and now I have to pick up after your mistakes. What a _stupid_ , _pathetic_ little human."

 _That sarcastic voice. It stings the same way every time. Is that..._

 _Sothis?!_

I shake the snow off my back and turn around. There's a familiar face in front of me, and I'm blessed with a cheerful sense of bewilderment.

I said, "Sothis! Its been so long! I thought you were dead!"

Sothis rolled her eyes, "You should be less concerned with me and more concerned with yourself. You really don't know what's going do you?"

I rub my head and remember the grim situation I was just in. I was bleeding out on the floor in Castle Caelin, and now I was somewhere familiar...

Very familiar...

I said, "Wait...why am I in Illia?! What's going on?"

Sothis replied, "I suppose I should congratulate you. You've done something no mortal has done since I was alive. You've died, and now you're exactly three months in the past. Welcome back to the day of May 21st."

* * *

 **A/N: Did I just put a time loop in my story? Heck yeah! See y'all in two weeks!**


	58. Rewind

**Chapter 53: Rewind**

 **By SodiumChloride12, derived from Fire Emblem, owned by Nintendo.**

 **A/N: I'm back and perfectly refreshed! With that, we enter the final leg of this literary journey. There's about about 20-25 chapters until this series concludes, so put on your metaphorical seatbelts and get ready!**

 **So what did I do for a week? Well, I took up ROM hacking the original FE7 game! I spent 12 hours modifying the first chapter, and well...**

 **It's hard. Really hard. I finished it though...**

 **Anyhow, I hope y'all enjoy this week's chapter! These next two chapters are going to have a lot going on, and even though I really could have spread it to 6 chapters, I chose not to otherwise this project would never be finished.**

 **N: Samuel finds himself in a familiar place. A place he swore he'd never see again.**

* * *

 **?...**

My heart skips a beat and when I hear Sothis' words. They stick to me like a sticky wad of molasses, and I look up at her with concentrated confusion in my eyes.

"I...I died?"

I grasp my stomach which had been in two several moments ago. I remember the blood pouring from it, and the numbing pain that encapsulated my entire being. The golden eyes of my former beloved still peer at me behind a curtain darkness.

Sothis nods, allowing her translucent body to float through the snow as she approaches me. Her light green glow made the blanket of white look like lime sherbet ice cream.

She said, "Yes. Now we're three months in the past, back to the day of May 21st. I'm glad you heeded my advice."

Intrigued, I asked, "Your advice?! I don't recall speaking to you since we..."

"Since we..."

My memory turns into a haze. My last moments with Sothis were unclear, and I didn't remember much from our encounter in the void.

Sothis said, "You don't remember...that's not surprising. Prolonged exposure to the void will do that to a mere mortal such as yourself. Whatever, it doesn't matter. Samuel, show me your watch."

 _My watch?_

My pocket watch is an unremarkable silver watch made from an ordinary watchmaker in Etruria. It's handy to own in a land without cellphones and atomic clocks, more so since it's incapable of losing time. I never questioned this fascinating quality about it and forgot asking Niime out of matter of convenience. I never trusted that old witch and feared she'd confiscate my treasured item if she suspected it were cursed.

I produce it and show the watch to her. Sothis nods approvingly and motioned for me to get a better look at it. She said, "Ah, I see my blessing worked as planned. Samuel, did you ever wonder why your watch never lost time?"

Flabbergasted, I reply, "Wait, you enchanted my watch?!"

Sothis smiles confidently, radiating off a sense of godly prowess. She said, "Of course. I did it as a fail-safe should you ever die. It required the last of my power, unfortunately. I won't be able to do it again."

That little remark raises my questions than answers. I asked, "P-Power? I always thought you didn't have any because you don't have a physical body."

Sothis replied, "I used to be a time goddess believe it or not. I lost most of my strength when I got put into your conciousness, but fortunately I enchanted your watch shortly after our souls binded."

 _!_

"You're kidding."

I look at her skeptically with my heterochromic eyes. A pair of brown and green fixated on another solely composed of the latter...

My green eye...it used to be amber. Why is it green now? I'd always assumed it was because of the magic Niime used to heal me, which wasn't far fetched since my hair had become a shade of snowy white. But, is there another reason why? Something...much more supernatural?

Come to think of it, my eye isn't just any shade of green. It's the _exact_ shade of green Sothis has in her eyes. How...had I not noticed this before?

Sothis said, "I am not. Allow me to jolt your memory, tactician. It'll save us both a lot of trouble."

 _!_

Sothis startles me when she grabs my left wrist and recited a chant. The world around me spins, and she takes me to a place deep within her conciousness...

Our consciousness...

* * *

 **?...**

The spinning stops, and I'm back at the castle where Azazel had met his demise. The church we'd fought in still simmered with trace amounts of smoke, and rubble litters the floor. Faux sunlight beams through the open ceiling like a divine display of faith...but the grim display before me could make anyone question the existence of god.

I'm looking over the past version of myself and Sothis, the latter gravely wounded from Azazel's intrusion. She lies in past Samuel's arms like a child dying from some brutal illness, and her bloodied mouth struggles to produce words.

She said, "S-Samuel. Please...live well. I don't have long..."

Her skin is clammier than a pack of clay, and the light in her eyes fades like a fire in a rainstorm. The pain in her voice is damning, with tears dripping around her face that didn't belong to her.

They...belonged to me. Past me...that is.

Past Samuel said, "No...no...no no no no. You can't die. Not here, not now!"

Samuel brings Sothis close and continues to sob. It reminds me of the same sensation I felt when Lumina died, or the many nights away from Laniakea. Seeing myself in this emotional state almost made me want to break down, but somehow I harden my heart and continued on in silence. I recall faint recollections of this moment, though I'm still unsure of what happened next.

Samuel said, "There has to be a way to save you. I won't let you die! Something...anything!"

Sothis shakes her head, and past me looks at her defeated. He doesn't know what to do, but oddly enough, I suspect Sothis does. Perhaps...I do know the end to this story.

Sothis said, "You must let me die. There's no other way...you must keep your individualism and move forward. Please."

Samuel and I glance at Sothis surprised. Past me speaks the words we are both thinking. He said, "My individualism. Are you meaning to say that if I give it up I'll save you? I'll do it."

 _I knew it! I knew there was a way to save her!_

Sothis disagreed, "No...if you do that you'll lose a part of yourself. We'd have to… merge souls. You'll no longer just be yourself...but a combination of you and me. I can't possibly ask that...from you."

Samuel replied, "That's nonsense! I'll do it! How do we merge souls?"

I can't believe what I'm hearing. Samuel...or at least this version of me, was ready to give up a part of his individuality without a second of thought. My personal identity is something I held above all else...everything but the welfare of my family and friends. Still, I thought past me would've least hesitated at this, but the more I think about it, perhaps it's not as far-fetched as initially thought.

I am not a selfless individual. In fact, the opposite is true. I'm self-centered, arrogant, and filled to the brim with pride. I love to be the center of attention when it suits me, and I don't shy to show my machismo. I spend my free time fantasizing about the peaceful life I want to spend with Lani after this conflict ends; our relationship serving as a symbiotic arrangement to fill the father-daughter void engrained in our hearts. Should my true identity ever come to light, I won't hesitate to do whatever it takes to keep myself alive, even if it means bringing harm to another person. Even it means killing them...

But I do have a moral compass. Growing up in a Hispanic household had taught me to put my loved one's high in my list of priorities, as it is with them that derive some of my happiness and strength. There's a lot of things I'd be willing to do for people like Erk, Canas, and especially Lani, but how about Sothis?

Sothis...

She's done a lot for me. She assisted me in discovering my past and helped me through some of my darkest moments. Moments that I'm not proud of. On top of that, she saved my life from Azazel's fury and took a mortal wound meant for me...

With all that considered, it's no wonder why past me would explore the notion of merging souls. Sothis is one my closest and most important friends. I understand now why past me would act with no regards to the consequences...

...

Something doesn't add up. If my soul bound with Sothis, shouldn't my personality have changed? I feel the same as I always do, with the only noticeable difference to my person being my green eye. What's going on?

Observing past me and Sothis, I realize the answer is right in front of me. Sothis was vanishing quickly, and it wouldn't be long until the void absorbed her into its grand expanse...

The void is composed of pure magical energy and was the source of all mana in the mortal plane. From a scientific standpoint, I didn't understand how this realm came to accumulate this much mana from nothing, as doing so directly violated the First Law of Thermodynamics...

[Energy can neither be created nor destroyed. It can only be transferred to a body or its form changed.]

With that understanding, the energy in the void has to come from _somewhere_ , especially since it provides a world's volume of mages the energy they need to perform magic. The mana they used to conjure spells is smaller compared to the mana expunged from the void, along with the latter being enormous in scale. For instance, a basic fire spell uses on average about 1000 joules of mana from the mage, yet creates an explosion that yields about 250,000 joules of energy. The void makes up that huge joule difference in its own, along with the thousands of other spells occurring around the world at any given time...

But that still begs the question, where does the void get its energy? I suspected that this came in the form of quintessence, but in order to do that the void would need to abduct live beings into its metaphorical stomach, a possibility which is impossible because of the non-sentient nature of the realm. The void has no natural "mana" producing manufacturies sprawling around the plane either, along with no internal populace to harvest organic matter. That only leaves one external energy source capable of providing that an answer...

The voidwalkers...

The voidwalkers are a class of being capable of traversing between the void and the mortal plane. The origin of their ability is unknown, but my past research has posted some theories. A book in Caelin mentioned that they were a race of ancient humans allied with dragons in a time before the Scouring, but ultimately went extinct because of mysterious circumstances. Another text in Hoger hypothesized that their extinction may have come at the behest of their own self-induced corruption, though this theory came with zero follow up. Finally, an old medicinal scroll in Badon suggested that this corruption might have come from the detrimental effects of the void itself...

I think I can remember a passage of interest. It read: _The void is a realm not meant to inhabit living things. It hungrily tears at our souls, eventually eating away at it with prolonged exposure. The few mortal voidwalkers that remain are all mad beyond saving and resemble ominous husks absent from their humanity. We don't know how to treat these people. We're meant to heal the body...not the soul._

The soul. The only thing more important to a man than their life force. It's the purest, most personal representation of a human being, and is the difference between an emotional human and the cold rationality of a homunculus. The soul coursing through my person is the reason I have any empathic ability, and should I ever lose it, I'll become no different from that robot Ephidel. I need to avoid that at all costs, lest I lose the love I have for my friends.

...

Suddenly, a curious thought streaks my mind. I wonder, given the enormous amount of energy that can be obtained from quintessence...

How much energy can procured through breaking down a soul?

I cover my mouth and gasp. Had I...just solved the great mystery of the void? The question that eluded the wisest Elibe had to offer? The source of all the magic in the mortal plane doesn't come from the palm of a divine being, the bodies of living organisms, or even radiation from a celestial star. They come from the souls of every unfortunate voidwalker corrupted within the void's domain, their identities erased forever in favor of material mana...

I look over at Sothis and realize that she wasn't far from this fate. If past me didn't do anything to save her, she'll melt away into the magical abyss surrounding us. She'll disintegrate into the environment like a human blood cell at the end of its life, with the void tearing her apart like the human body stripping proteins from a dead membrane.

I see Sothis whisper something to Samuel, who responds with nod. I infer that she just told him the answer to his earlier question, and now he was prepared to act on that knowledge. He takes a knee and takes Sothis' hand into his own.

Sothis muttered an incantation in the ancient tongue. She said, " _Sit Commixtio largior erit ingeri Nostro refusus pectori. Ut accipias benedictionem divinam_."

Suddenly, a bright flash encapsulates the entire space. It forces me to cover my eyes, but it's not long until it goes away. Focusing back on the scene, I realize that Sothis is no longer present, though Samuel is still standing alone by the church tabernacle.

His clothes and posture were the same, but his left eye now shone a familiar shade of green. His right hand is bunched up into a fist, and he watches triumphantly as the last of Azazel's simmering corpse simmers into the void.

He said, "Sothis...your sacrifice won't be in vain. I swear to leave this place and experience the happiness you wanted me to. I...I promise."

He turns his head and hurriedly walks out the front door. I try to follow him, but an invisible wall blocks my path. A voice booms overhead.

It said, "Your memory ends here. Someway, somehow, you escaped the void and our souls bounced back into your body. However, you lost your memory, and it became my job to fix that. I'll be bringing you back to reality now..."

I'm struck with another flash, and everything became black.

* * *

 **Present...**

My face is lying flat against a thick pile of snow. It feels cold and tingly, almost like an army of tiny winter minions were tickling my face...

"Hey! I'm not about to wait for you to wake up again! Get up you lazy oaf!"

Presented with no other option, I get up and face my ever-quiet voice of reason, Sothis. I brush off some snow from my robes and scrape away ice from my brow. Cutting to the point, I asked, "So you and I _are_ technically the same person now, but why do I feel the same? How are you still existing as a separate entity?"

Sothis replied, "The spell I used wasn't a _true_ merger spell, but a different kind called a binder. I binded our souls together instead of merging them together because I wanted us to keep our personalities. It was enough for you to transport me out of the void, but worry not. When you die for real, I'll be released of the binding magic, and you can ascend to the afterlife without me."

"Die for real?"

I take out my watch...and notice the minute hand now ticked at a slower pace. It was minute and hardly mattered in the short-term, but it was enough for me to catch it.

Sothis said, "That watch held the last of the power I used to wield as a time goddess. However, it only had enough of it to turn back time once."

"..."

Finally coming to terms with myself, and my new situation, I nod my head in acceptance.

I said, "I...think I understand what's going on now. When we binded souls, you were able to direct the last of your godly powers towards enchanting my watch; which reverses time on the event I should die. I somehow left the void, but I'd been in there for so long that I had amnesia. Now, I'm three months in the past."

Sothis clapped her hands together and smiled. I'd finally caught on. She said, "Correct! I knew you had a decent noggin in there!"

Content with my situation, I take a deep breath and ponder. I'd travelled back to the past thanks to some dumb luck and divine intervention. Now that I had a second chance at life, what would I do about it? I have the opportunity to change the dim future ahead of me, and avoid many of the mistakes I made the first time around. I hold the power to save Erk's life, spare the Kingdom of Caelin from its fate, and prevent Lyn's transformation into a morph...

There's so much to do. I need to train so I can build the strength to hold my own against the enemy and make modifications to my hand to make it more combat-ready. I can inquire to Canas about a method to increase my mana capacity, and I must find out if I can control or weaponize this "voidwalking" ability.

I said, "Ugh...there's so much to do. Where do I start?"

Sothis said, "You can start by putting out your house and saving Alexia. If I'm not wrong, we should be several minutes from Nergal's departure."

 _Nergal's departure..._

Thinking back on Nergal's departure [the first time around, I remember that I was at a point near death. His vile laughter permeated through air like an airborne contagion, and it still vibrantly echoes through my mind. He had come all this way to kill me, yet failed and disappeared without a trace.

That begs the question, what happened to me? Did something or someone stop Nergal from continuing his heinous deed?

He asked, "Hey Sothis, do you know anything about why Nergal just left me here? There's blood on my robe."

Sothis shook her head, "No. Unfortunately, I'm about as clueless about this as you. However, I too think someone may have inserted themselves as your guardian angel. We musn't too much on this right now, we're wasting precious seconds!"

My heart flips on its head, and a burst of adrenaline pumps through my body. I said, "Right!"

I leave the hill without another second of hesitation. Perhaps I should've stayed a little while longer. Maybe then I would've seen the glowing pair of golden eyes peering at me far away in the mountains.

I reach the village quickly, and a large inferno covering my home greets me. It's hot and blindingly bright, almost like it took the form of a small miniature star. My neighbors are already trying to put out the flame with water from the well, but so far their efforts were doing little to quell it. I push myself past the crowd and make for my front door...

One man said, "Hey! Samuel?! Where have you been?! Your house is on fire! Don't get in there, it's dangerous!"

I exclaimed, "I need to get in there! A warlock struck my house with wizard fire! He took Lani and...Alexia's hurt! I need to help her!"

A woman looks at me skeptically, she said, "Wizard fire? What would a sorcerer want to do with you?"

"Give me that!"

I take the woman's pail of ice cold water and douse myself with it. I didn't care that the lady felt slighted, but I did care about the woman inside.

She said, "Why I never—"

"Thanks!"

I rush through and try to push the door open. Unfortunately, I'd locked the door shortly before leaving, so I had to get physical. I clench my metal fist and punch the smoldering wood with all my strength.

Crack!

I hit it with so much force that I pop it out of its hinges. Observing the inside, I see a scene straight out of hell. A symphony of smoke and embers covers the entire place. I could scarcely see anything past the black fog, but someway, somehow, I spot a tuft a blue hair.

"Alexia!"

I run through the hellscape without a towel over my mouth. I cough and heave my body through a dangerous obstacle course made from fire, but I persevere. I reach Alexia's still body within a minute.

Her body is clammy, but had a pulse. Her cut open neck drips with red crimson, though luckily she hadn't lost too much of it yet. I'm silently grateful for this development, and I wrap her wound with some cloth to stem the bleeding.

I whispered, "Don't worry Alex. I'll get you out of here. I just need you to hang on a little bit longer."

I carry her with my arms, which were much more adept at handling the load since I hadn't yet weakened them to malnutrition. I run out of my burning home as fast as I can, doing so just seconds after the roof caves in...

BOOM!

The building explodes into a magnificent (albeit depressing) display of nature. It sends simmering heat straight into the surrounding environment, producing a miniature heat wave that wipes some shine from the nearby snow. I wonder why it turned out this way, but then a vague memory appears to me.

A couple weeks ago (in this timeline) I was experimenting with black gunpowder. I'd been trying to see if I could contain an explosion inside a firearm constructed from the high-quality metal here in Illia. However, upon combusting the gunpowder, the pistol exploded, wiping out my metallic hand with it. Deeming the firearm project too expensive (and painful) for my tastes, I discarded the project for good, and focused on other, non-militaristic exploits. Now having no use for explosives, I stored the excess gunpowder in my wine cellar and forgot about it...

 _Oops..._

In hindsight, now that I think about it I think the gunpowder was an item of contention during my trial. My defense lawyer tried to argue that I had no involvement in the attack, yet the prosecution pointed out the gunpowder was conveniently present while I was away. My lawyer tried to coax me to testify the purpose of it in front of a jury...but I was in no state of mind to do so. That guaranteed my conviction.

 **S:** There you go daydreaming again! Alexia needs urgent medical attention!

I set Alexia down near a tree stump, and I hurriedly attempt to treat Alexia's wound. I rip off parts of my hood and wrap it around her neck like a makeshift bandage. This doesn't seem to be enough though, and I madly try to stem the bleeding any way I can...

My heart drops. Even with my best efforts, it looks like this was a fate I'm not going to be able to change.

 _No no no no! I can't let her die again!_

"Hey, do you need some help?"

I turn my head and notice a tall man in a blue uniform. His mustached face observes me with pure sympathy towards my plight, and it puts me at ease.

I said, "Yes! Please, anything..."

The man obliges, revealing a blue vial of elixir in his possession. It glitters under the fire like a warm glass of milk, and he quickly applies it to Alexia's gruesome wound.

I feel a sense of relief as Alexia's frantic breathing calms. I said, "T-Thank you. You have my gratitude."

"..."

The man hesitates, as if taking a second to think about his words. He brushes his prime mustache and replied, "When I first arrived here, I had every reason to suspect you were the perpetrator of this incident. However, observing you selflessly dive into that inferno suggests that may not be the case."

 _!_

This man...is the town constable. He's an esteemed lawman who used to spend his days apprehending outlaws in Sacae, but his older years have guided him to the sleepy town of Höger. The first time I saw him was in my apprehension, in which he was much more aggressive, though now he seems more receptive to my innocence.

I said, "I can reassure you I wouldn't set fire to my own home. Especially when my niece and...significant other were in there."

The constable replied, "Just because something is unlikely doesn't mean you're clear of suspicion. Miss Alexia is here, but Laniakea is still absent. Where is she?"

I bite my lip. What I'm about to tell him will surely sound like a product of fiction.

I said, "She...was taken away. One of my old enemies reasoned to settle an old score. They would've killed Alexia too if given the chance."

 **S:** You fool! Why are you going to tell him that?!

The constable's seed of suspicion balloons into a bloom. He pushes the issue further, asking, "Old enemies? Who would that be?"

"..."

I sigh and then look out towards my burning home. I wasn't doing myself any favors by continuing to wag my tongue, so in moments like these its best to just plead the fifth.

The constable said, "You're hiding too much from me, young man."

He reveals a pair of iron handcuffs in his possession. He won't need a warrant for what he's about to do.

The situation isn't looking good. Whether I want to or not, the constable is about to arrest me again. There isn't much to do except submit myself to this fate, and hope I can liberate myself through the court. A process I'll hopefully be able to take advantage now since I'm within a sane state of mine.

 **S:** Do you think you're ready for that?

"…"

Yes.

I said, "I understand. I am prepared to prove my innocence under your judicial system. With that, I request Mr. Rypka sees to his niece. I will say nothing else."

I take a deep breath and extend my arms forward. The nearby villagers pause in their tracks, intrigued by the new development before their eyes. I speak with a tone somewhere between defiance and hardy confidence.

"Sir, clasp me in irons."

* * *

 **Some time later...**

The constable turns the key to release the metal fixtures from my legs. I observe in silent anticipation for the words that would free me from my prison.

"You're free to go."

It's been a week since the events that transpired on May 21st. They threw me into prison, but soon after Canas got me contact with a defense lawyer. We met up in good time, and then armed with sufficient legal advice, we constructed a plan to prove my innocence.

This iteration of the trial was speedier and much more favorable to me. I fully took part in the investigation, relaying my knowledge of Nergal's scheme to the judge in a private trial. I detailed him his past atrocities and provided adequate testimony that proved my unwillingness to bring harm to both Laniakea and Alexia. The judge took some coaxing for him to warm up to the idea of an outside sorcerer messing with Höger's affairs, but eventually he did.

The prosecution did his best to convict me, but the poor novice lawyer fell flat at every turn. He tried to argue that I had an ulterior motive to harm Alexia, but couldn't find any evidence to support this theory. Next, he turned to Laniakea's disappearance, claiming that this was some elaborate insurance fraud plot. Unfortunately for him the only person I had a policy on was myself, and after a failed ploy to somehow connect the gunpowder in my cellar to "my explosive fervor default amongst people of my race", he retired to his chair and went silent.

It was a miracle he convicted me the first time. He's utterly inept and probably failed this nation's bar exam. How he came to head the prosecution in this nation's capital, I don't know, but I'm grateful for it.

 _Heh...maybe Zealot has something to do with it..._

I leave jail a free man, however, there is a catch to my sentencing. The judge determined that although I had no guilt in what transpired on May 21st, my continued residence in town had become a liability to the safety of my neighbors. He ordered me to sell all of my properties and leave the town within three weeks, conveniently around the time I left in the previous timeline.

Personal affairs aside, that means I have three weeks to do everything I need to do. I need to modify the chassis in my hand, run a quick crash coarse in swordplay, speak with Niime about my mana problems, and most importantly, do something about my embarrassing lack of strength. I've already spent a week doing workouts in my cell, so with three more weeks of intense training and good eating, I should be in a good place going forward.

 **S:** Are you listening to yourself think right now? You sound like a gym junkie.

Sothis' bickering has me thinking. I might not have access to protein powder in this world...but surely something else can be a suitable replacement. Egg whites and black beans. All are fairly cheap at the nearby market...I wonder...

...

No business wasting time here. I need to get to work!

* * *

 **Later that day...**

I was eating lunch at Canas' house when my friend delivered me some unsettling news. It came regarding my lover and third person present at the disaster, Alexia.

Canas said, "You need to come with me when you're finished. Alexia finally woke up."

The severity of Alexia's injuries had committed her to a coma. I wanted to go see her right after leaving jail, but her uncle had prohibited me from doing so. Given the verdict the judge delivered, I can't really blame him. Anybody that's ever been involved with me only gets hurt...

...

Perhaps it's my profession, genesis, or utter lack of luck. My knack for misfortune seems to follow my friends too, ultimately leading to the Lani's abduction, Lyn's transformation into a morph, and Erk's death. The argument can be made their lives are only like this way because of my continued presence on this earth...but I digress. Nergal is the true man behind this curtain of darkness, and although I can blame myself all I want, he's the puppeteer heading this concert of misery. I need to stop him...otherwise the blood shed by myself and my friends will be for not.

However, in this thought came a more pressing dilemma. Should somebody like Alexia be involved in matters such as this? People like Lyn and Erk have more immediate stakes involving them in the field of war, whether it be defending their livelihood or defending a client in return for monetary compensation. However, Alexia is a regular civilian with nothing to gain, and everything to lose...

...

I...I'd be lying to myself if I were to say I didn't still love her. My heart flutters for her like I was still a teenager, but I know that my continued presence in my life will only bring her more sadness and pain. I...need to do something difficult. I need to break up with her and ensure that this path of darkness was something Lani and I walk alone.

Knock! Knock!

We knock on the front door of Mr. Rypka's inn, and the man himself answers. He wears a grim look of worry on his face, an expression that morphs into one of cautious distaste when he notices my presence.

He said, "Hello, Canas. Pleasure to see—oh. It's you."

He nudges the door to close it, but Canas sticks his boot in between the gap. Always a gentleman, he raises up his monocle and said, "Sorry to disturb you this afternoon, but your niece has requested an audience with my friend Sam here."

Mr. Rypka grumbled, "Bah. I'll be damned if I were to let him speak to her again. He's nothing but trouble."

My heart fades as I hear him say those words. He wasn't the only person in town that held this belief. In fact, most townspeople did. The irony is that this was the "good" timeline, and the alternative involved me facing the death penalty by hanging. I suppose it's better now I'm aware of these people's vengeful mob mentality, but that didn't ease the pain. Not even a little.

I said, "I...I understand your feelings. Mr. Rypka, I'm going to go on a trip soon. I'm going to go find Lani."

Mr. Rypka glared at me. He said, "Are you sure you didn't kill her yourself?"

 _!_

A surge of anger builds up in my gut. I clench my fist and visualize myself ramming it through his face...but I refrain. I know very well what can happen if I let my emotions overwhelm me.

I said, "I loved Lani, Mr. Rypka. I'd never even fathom to do something like that in my life. If I did, then I think I'd rather end my own life than someone I saw like my daughter."

Mr. Rypka flinches, but otherwise doesn't budge. Deep in thought, he scratches the back of his head, though I'm not sure if it's for his desire to whack my head off with a mallet or to allow us to enter his abode. Fortunately for me, it was the latter.

He said, "You have thirty minutes. Get it done."

Canas nodded his head, "I'll make sure of it."

 **...**

We allowed ourselves into Alexia's temporary living quarters, which was just Mr. Rypka's guest room constructed within the tavern. It's a simple place with little furnishing save for two desk stands for work and a few ashtrays for the occasional smoke. Used bandages clutter the floorboards, as do several empty pouches of vulneraries. Alexia herself is peacefully looking out the window from atop her bed, her eyes simmering with an emotion I could not describe.

Canas whispered, "I'll leave you two alone. She requested that I allow you two privacy."

Canas vacated the room, and at a loss for words, I wait in quiet anticipation as the door slammed shut. Alexia doesn't appear to have noticed my presence yet, or perhaps, like myself, she's trying to buy herself time. It's at this moment that I realize that I hadn't spoken to her in over three months, though for her it's only been a fraction of that time.

I'm struck with a hint of regret. I wonder if I'm the same person who she'd known for nearly half a year...but I know that's not the case. I hold the burdens of a corrupted past, along with all memories pertaining to the deaths of myself, Erk, Lyn, and Alexia. I'm nobody like I was back then; the cheery bright light of optimism had since fermented into a pit of encapsulating sorrow.

Alexia doesn't deserve this. She deserves something so much better.

Breaking the silence, I spoke with a somber tone. I said, "A-Alexia. It's good to see that you're awake."

Alexia shifts her gaze towards mine. My heart grows heavy with molasses, and I discover the true reason she was looking out the window. A single tear falls down the side of her cheek, an indicator of hard decision she's about to make.

She said, "As am I. My uncle told me you rushed into the blaze as soon as you could. You...have my thanks."

Despite the tear on her cheek, it's evident she isn't under any emotional distress. I'm more concerned about the disturbing burn marks covering her arms, and the bandages covering the rest of her.

I said, "Alexia...oh my God. Are you okay? This is all my fault, I never should've left the house—"

Alexia cut me off, "Laniakea. Is she okay?"

"..."

The air fills with smothering silence. I hear nothing but the imprecise ticking of my watch, and a bead of sweat drips down the side of my face.

 _Alex deserves to know the truth. Besides me, she was just as involved with raising Lani. She was like an older sister to her..._

I said, "No. She's in the possession of an evil sorcerer named Nergal."

Alexia said frankly, "What business does he have with you?"

Her face is…red with anger. This is the first time I'd seen Alex this upset, thought it's all my fault. I've been keeping secrets from her. Secrets detrimental to the safety of her and Lani.

I said, "I...I can't tell you. It's...the information's too dangerous for you to know."

That was the truth. Alexia gained nothing by knowing of Nergal's existence. It's better for her to be in the dark. However, she disagreed.

She said, "Too dangerous? Samuel, what other secrets are _too dangerous_ for me to know?! How many secrets have you been keeping from me?"

"..."

I go silent and shift my gaze towards the ground in shame. I've made the same mistake with Alexia that I'd made with Lyn in the past. I kept sensitive information to myself, hoping that I'd never feel the consequences associated with my past.

Alexia says the words I'd been dreading since I first fell in love with her. She said, "Samuel, who _are_ you? You've kept so much from me...are you even the man I fell in love with? Is this relationship even worth keeping? Why...why would you keep this information from me? Look what it did to you, look what it did to me..."

She raises her left hand and I'm met with a grim sight. It's a blackened mess of organic matter and bone, resembling charcoal. I nearly faint at the sight of it, but keep my wits together.

She said, "This is nothing compared to the pain latching onto my heart. You've betrayed my trust, and now I'm sure I can't ever see you in the same way again."

Her words strike at me like a poison dagger stabbing my gut. I...don't know what to say. I'd been spending the past half hour preparing myself for this very moment, but I'm woefully soft under the pressure of Alex's observations. Observations she has every right to make.

She continued, "Samuel...I've come to realize that I can't see myself with you anymore. It pains me to see this...but we need to break up. You must bear the burdens of your secrets alone..."

A bell echoes through the walls of my conciousness. The room morphs into a haze, with Alex's blue eyes gleaming through the fog like a pair of solitary stars. Her words repeat themselves in my head as Canas and I leave Mr. Rypka's inn for the final time, gnawing at my soul like an evil curse.

 _You must bear the burdens of your secrets alone..._

* * *

"Canas..."

My friend listens as we somberly return home. The sky illuminated with depressing gray, and the snow resembled dull clay. My soul drags against the ground like a deflated balloon.

He replied, "Yeah? Is something wrong?"

My last interaction with Alexia confirmed one thing, something _was_ wrong with me. In the two weeks I've been here in Illia, I put off the looming threat of my mental health like it was a prolonged time bomb. It gnaws at my rationality, corrupting my thoughts in every way. I need to stop it...but how?

There's no better person to tell about my condition than Canas. He understands (most) of the trauma I'd been through, even if I can't tell him about then additional pain I'd sustained at the other timeline. He might have some mysterious potion that can cure my ailment, provided that the realm of magic can do so.

I said, "It's my mind, friend. I...I've been hearing things. Visions too. I fear it may overwhelm me soon."

 _!_

Canas doesn't flinch, and just listened to my statement like it were normal. At first, I think it's because he's being a good friend, but in reality his methods were much more ambiguous. As a mage exercising the dark arts, insanity is commonplace amongst people of his profession, and such potions _did_ exist in the magical land of Elibe.

He replied, "Oh, I may be able to help you with that. No, more like _Erk_ will be able to help you with that..."

"Erk?"

Canas continued, "Send him a letter. He mentioned to me earlier that he made a certain potion. It's a numbing agent...one that might be able to quiet the demons in your mind..."


	59. New Man

**Chapter 54: New Man**

 **By SodiumChloride12, derived from Fire Emblem, owned by Nintendo.**

 **A/N: Sorry this came out a bit late. I'm still recovering for last night's all-nighter, and the website wasn't responding well to the editing software I was using. On the bright side, there's a good chance I got a perfect score on my exam!**

 **N: His preparations now complete, Samuel embarks on his journey to beat fate.**

* * *

 _May 29th, 981._

 _Dear Erk of House Reglay,_

 _Hi! How are you? By the time you get this, it should be somewhere between early to mid-June. A lot of has happened since you left. I'll get you up to speed..._

 _My relationship with Alexia aside, Lani remains kidnapped by Nergal's men, and I am to leave the village by June 20th. I will partake in an adventure with an associate I know in Ostia, but I require some of your help. Canas informed me about a potion you constructed specifically for me, and I believe it may help with my ailment..._

 _Before I leave you, I implore you to reject that mission with Madame Priscilla. Have somebody from the Mage's Academy do it, but please— PLEASE avoid going yourself. I can't tell you how I know of this, but a great danger lies down her path. Please heed my warning friend. I fear for your safety..._

 _Godspeed to you, friend. May the Creator help us both._

 _From, Samuel Castillo._

* * *

 **Present...**

The day is August 3rd, and it's been almost two weeks since my expulsion from Höger. Much has happened since then, and today I wake up the morning after my meeting with Marquess Ostia.

I take a deep breath and let in the fine Ostian mountain air flowing through the open window of my room. Thankfully, my physical health is great and my sanity is in fine form, though occasionally Alex's bitter words still burn. I try not to think about her much anymore, but I fear about the inevitable conversation I'll have to share with Lani.

Laniakea...it's been about four months since I've seen her adorable face. Her memory still lingers in my mind as a burden I alone carry, but that reality doesn't bother me. I take pride in being her knight in shining armor and look forward to the day we can once again revel in new experiences of splendor. The happiness we are yet to share keeps me going, along with motivating me to become a better man than I am now.

Speaking of a knight in shining armor, my training regimen makes me look quite the part. I've packed on about five pounds of weight since Sothis woke me up on that snowy hill, giving me a decent build that I can confidently say is about average. I'm no longer the scrawny little tactician a brawn can bully around like a small child, but a true man willing to take on any obstacle in his path. I continue to workout and eat when I can, though my experiences towards my magical abilities still give me some trouble.

I talked to Niime and Canas about my chronic mana struggles, but the former could only provide an old trinket that used to belong to her former husband. It's a small blue gem in the shape of a tear named the "Tear of the Dragon", an old artifact of materialized dragon tears. The way it works is that it permanently raises the user's mana levels by 0.1% every time they used a spell, capping out at about 5x their original mana level. It's a very useful item, if it weren't for one drawback. Any spell used after equipping it weakens offensive and defensive magic alike. It does this by manipulating the fundamental formula of magic...

 **(Magical Power) = (C)*(Magical Force)*(Mana)** **²**

The "C" in the formula is the "Magician's Constant", a variable that varies based on the user's race. An elf would have a value of 1.25, a manakete 1.5, and a vampire 0.75. Humans and Homunculi have a value of 1.00. Usually scholars omit this constant from the equation because of the triviality of the value, but it applies to me for one reason...

The tear...lowers the constant to 0.10.

For any other ordinary person, this feature alone would make using the tear impractical. However, I am no ordinary man. I am a homunculus gifted with an abnormally large MF value, and a painfully small mana value. The tear is my solution. This item can help me fix the only thing preventing me from becoming the mage I know I can be. I know by the virtue of the formula my mana can out scale any temporary damper caused by the constant. That's a mathematical probability—no...a mathematical certainty. I will use this tear to become the strongest mage of all time...and use my power to stop the evil sorcerer keeping my niece in chains...

...

Besides my tear, I also obtained other pieces of hardware to improve my journey. I procured new steel toe boots, a new waterproof white outfit, and light steel armor to protect my chest region. My weaponry includes a single sword attached to the gauntlet underlying my steel hand, which was a measure to prevent mana loss from having to clasp onto a sword. Now more armored and armed than ever before, I felt ready to face the enemies that lay ahead...

Finally, my last action before leaving the village was to obtain a stat scroll. A stat scroll is a piece of parchment that details a person's fighting attributes, along with potential growth rates in those fields. I got one made for me at the Fist's HQ...

 **Level: 5**

 **Class: Mage**

 **Strength: 5 [Average]**

 **Magic: 3 [Phenomonal]**

 **Skill: 6 [Average]**

 **Speed: 5 [Below Average]**

 **Luck: 0 [None]**

 **Defense: 5 [Below Average]**

 **Resistance: 8 [Above Average]**

Oh boy. No luck?! My stats are horrible. Everything but my magic and resistance, that is. I will sure have to be creative with these two attributes, but that's not the only thing that catches my eye. There's a small statement written on the bottom corner of the scroll, a place mostly left blank for the vast majority of Elibeans.

 _ **Special Ability: Voidwalker**_

 _When the user upgrades classes and attains level six, the user may blink across space at will. The blink can cover a distance no longer than one meter in radius, with small magical damage enacted at blink's end._

 _Currently, the user may phase through small objects, though this phenomenon is uncontrollable. The user will also take 15% less magical damage as a passive to this ability._

Discovering this was the icing to the cake. Although right now I'll still be about as weak (if not weaker) than I was before, I can at least fight knowing I have the foundation to become very powerful. For now, I'll just work through the weaknesses of my current state, and carry on for the power that awaits...

 _!_

I hear a knock on the door. It's from Matthew, who'll surely send me on my way towards Pherae...

He said, "Hey! It's time to go!"

I silently nod and take a deep breath. Now is my opportunity to fix my mistakes, to make sure I get things right...and...

To secure a better future...

* * *

 **One week later...**

I'm patiently (and soberly) waiting outside the village gate when I notice a humble knight riding down a road. It's Lowen.

I mysteriously meet his gaze and nod like I had rehearsed several hours before. The gesture comes out like I want to, neither too lax nor forced, but with just enough gusto to express an aura of confidence I lacked the first time around.

Lowen asked, "Stranger? What business do you have getting the attention of a knight of Pharea?"

I smile and lift my hood from my head, revealing my characteristic curly white hair. It glitters in the sunlight like snow, and the young man's synapses fire off in succession.

I replied, "I hear a Sir Eliwood requires the assistance of a tactician. I am that tactician, the one they sent you to pick up."

Lowen smiles, surely thankful that he didn't have to search the town for me. He disembarks from his steed and gives me a firm handshake, but winces when he feels the metallic edges of my gloved hand.

He said, "Hmm? I was never told you were a cripple."

I replied, "There's a lot of things people don't say about me. Come, we musn't waste anytime. You must take me to Lord Eliwood."

Lowen shakes his head, looking out towards the open gate standing behind me. I knew he had stuff to do, but if I mentioned it, it'd come out creepy.

He said, "I must complete some errands. I hope you don't mind."

I smiled, a nodded enthusiastically. I had no desire in coming off as a superficial human being, so now was my opportunity to build the friendship we shared before. I'll start by acting professionally, but then I'll swing the conversation to something much more fun.

I said, "Of course! Perhaps you can tell me about the mission. Oh, what are my manners? My name is Kenan Vacia, esteemed tactician from the land of Carazan..."

* * *

 **Later...**

War is a disturbing thing. I should be used to it by now, but every brush with it brings me the same sense of adrenaline only seen at amusement parks. It's a disturbing thing to think out loud, but even my thinning morality can't deny that fact. Fighting to the death is way more fun when you know how to fight.

"Hwuuuuuagh!"

My sword whizzes through the air and vibrates as it bangs into a nearby tree. It shakes the very bones in my wrist, but regardless, my will pushes me to stubbornly eye my opponent. He's a hideous-looking fellow with unkept raven hair and muscles that easily out massed my own. Still, he carried himself with aggression unsurprising of his class, and I read him like a book.

He sneered, "Aye! You'll pay for your mistake!"

He lunged forward to take advantage of my stuck blade, but I'm ready. I quickly unscrew the blade from its gauntlet and duck out of the way of his axe, just in time for his weapon to lodge itself in kind. The bandit's eyes widen with shock, an expression that quickly transforms into fright once he notices the fire tome strapped to my waist...

" _Pulvis ex igni summam potestatem ades!"_

A tiny, albeit hot streak of purple flame tunnels straight into the bandit's chest. He screams in anger, but the spell only pissed him off instead of doing much damage. He raises his axe to give me another go, and I frantically fix another blade to my gauntlet as if it were a cheap razor.

 _Heh, it's the same concept. I've only attached my sword to my gauntlet with a few loose screws, meaning that if my blade were to undergo a monumental amount of torque, the blade instead of my gauntlet will break off. Handy since this thing gets stuck into stuff often._

My spare sword snaps onto the gauntlet flawlessly, and I remind myself to thank the engineer once this whole battle was done. Never mind that the engineer is me…

 _!_

Thunk!

I'm struck with a brief sense of shock, and then deja vu as the bandit falls onto the ground with an arrow protruding from his head. I squint my eyes ahead and see a girl standing on the porch of her family home, the enthusiastic archer named Rebecca.

As if on cue, Sothis rises from her daily nap.

 **S:** Huh, fate plays its game in mysterious ways. This place, these circumstances...they're uncannily similar to how it was before. You didn't even need Rebecca to save you yet she did, anyway.

Uncanny, indeed. It's like even though I took steps to change the past, the ever-arching arms of reality made its own efforts to maintain the present. There are some things that I can change directly, like influencing those around me, but the timeline naturally wants to fall back to the established reality. Call it a form of taking the path of least resistance. With that in mind, it's my duty as a traveller of the past to ensure the flow of time goes down the preferred channels.

I raise my hand in gratitude, and Rebecca smiles in kind. Her gesture is as warm as I remembered it, and the comforting fuzzy feeling almost makes me forget we're in a war zone.

Rebecca said, "Hi! My name is Rebecca! I'm an archer around these parts...are you here to fend off these bandits?"

Her accent contains a rustic flavor very similar to mine. At times like these, I like to imagine myself as a stranger coming into town in one of those western flicks. Mysterious, well-mannered, and disheveled. The perfect man to form a posse and bring in an outlaw for questioning, or in my case, several.

 **S:** I wouldn't really call it questioning. More brutal, medieval style warfare.

It's always Sothis' job to ruin my fun. Why can't she be a good conscious and stay quiet? I already get enough commentary from the people inhabiting this bountiful earth.

 **S:** The nerve of you! I for one think you need an extra voice to help you avoid making bad decisions! I know you've made enough of those.

...

I digress. Arguing with women has never been my strong suit. Whether it be my loose grasp with rhetoric or the shrinking synapses of my sinking mind, it's futile to try.

 **S:** You're just looking for an excuse for me to get mad at you! I'm going to give you a peace of my m— hey! Stop ignoring me! Pay attention!

I shift my attention away from the green goblin in my mind and back towards the Dorothy standing on her front perch. Fighting bandits away from a village is a far cry from trying to get back home to Kansas, but it's a task I'm willing to help her with nonetheless. Especially now that I have an elixir in my possession...

I said, "I am! I'm here with the Pheraen army, pleased to make your acquaintance..."

* * *

 **Several months later...**

I'm getting stronger and stronger by the day. Sure, it may only be small incremental changes for now, but I can see it on the battlefield. I can now easily take on the aggression of the common bandit on the battlefield, though trained soldiers, pirates, and mages are still out of the question. This was a fact observed by Lowen, who noted my increased vigor over the past few days.

It's July 29th, the afternoon after we dealt with Boise (Boise?) in Santaruz. The summer sun basks us in a veil of suffocating heat, hitting me especially hard since I'm still accustomed to the frigid temperatures of Illia. I observe the surrounding trees like the bastions of shelter they were, feeling gratified as the shade made the heat a little more bearable. However, this sense of discomfort only applied to me. The rest of the army carried on about their day as if the weather was a normality, an attitude exemplified in the little runt named Guy.

Guy is an interesting character, and I'm not saying that because he tried to kill me. He's a second hailing from a tribe once allied with the Lorca, the Kutolah. The Kutolah are the largest tribe in the nation of Sacae, and known to contain some rather quiet, albeit stubborn warriors.

Whether it be my curiosity or my desire to find out more about the culture of Lyn's homeland, I found the green-haired sword man during lunch. He was eating a tuna sandwich with those dirty mitts of his, though I wasn't much better considering my putrid veil of must.

Introducing myself, I extend my musty hand forward and introduce myself. He looks at it and then back at his sandwich, probably wondering what type of trouble he'd subconsciously gotten himself into. I reassure him his record with me is cleaner than a drug addict at a rehab center (which in hindsight isn't very clean at all), and we sink into meaningful small talk.

Guy said, "You aren't about to give me one of those interviews, are you? Matthew's been telling me you do that to new recruits."

The interviews. They were something I took great professionalism in conducting; a slight reminder of the engineering expositions I frequented in my youth. I started doing them in the last timeline to vet the members of our army, and I took so much from them in terms of both functionality and enjoyment that I did it again in this timeline. Every interview turned out well then, all but Guy's.

Thinking about my interaction with him sends a chill down my spine. What started off as a cordial conversation between guys rapidly disintegrated into a verbal fistfight. I don't recall why it turned out that way, but I'm sure it has something to do with our incompatible personalities, the stupid way he talks, or the fact he tried to kill me. Probably more of the latter, to be honest.

 **S:** Here you are thinking like you're back in high school. He was just doing his job. Get over it.

I most certaintly won't get over it. It took me days to close that intake valve completely, and the stains on my robes took forever to clean up in an age without washing machines. The little runt didn't bother to help me out, much less express any remorse for his actions.

 **S:** Then why bother talk to him if you know he's a brat? Stick to your guns and keep to yourself. Unless...you're trying to get something from him?

...

There is something I need from Guy. It's a repetition of the knowledge he told me the first time over, as my failing mind had forgotten it. I need to know what got Guy and I in hot water, even if means learning the hard way.

Focusing my attention back on Guy, I said, "Eh...I'm afraid that's what this is. Sorry, army policy. It's one of the many duties entrusted to me by Lord Eliwood."

 **S:** That's a lie. You started doing this on your own volition, and Eliwood only said it was within your rights as tactician.

I ignore the green goblin in my mind and fixate myself on the conversation. Guy grits his teeth and shows an expression of bother, as if my mere presence around him had become a nuisance.

He said, "Let's get this over with."

Taking my opportunity, I obliged. I started by questioning him on his background...

I asked, "So what brings you to the lands of Lycia? It's a long way from Sacae."

Guy's otherwise lackluster demeanor evaporates in an instant. Eager to tell me of his mission, he answered, "I'm training to become the best swordsman in my home nation!"

 _Great._ I mentally scoffed. _One of those shounen MC types._

I said, "So you didn't get kicked out? Why didn't you train with your tribe?"

Guy's gleeful attitude leaves as soon as it came, and he returns to his smug teenaged face.

He said, "No, I did not get _kicked_ out. I just thought the Kutolah tribe wasn't the best place to do my training. I'm not in bad relations with them, but well..."

"..."

I stop writing in my notebook and look up at Guy, whose eyes have awkwardly shifted away from me and towards a nearby bush. A drop of anxious sweat falls down the side of his cheek.

I asked, "But what?"

Guy replied, "Uh...I figured I didn't have a place with the tribe. I couldn't hunt or fish very well, but the chieftain said I had a good sword arm. I...I honestly felt like a parasite. I couldn't stay there anymore, not when my mother already struggled with my younger siblings..."

Guy explains to me that his parents comprised of a hardworking mother and a nonexistent, deadbeat father. The latter had worked as a mercenary for some time before settling down and getting married, but he proved inept at village life. He left after only three years of returning to the Kutolah with the claim that he would send back money from his mercenary work. Instead, the family would never see him again, and rumor has it he runs a gambling house somewhere in Badon.

Guy's had a rough going at life. Most people in the continent do. It's a place full of the evils of the civilized world, complete with rampant crime, incurable disease, unbalanced power structures, and war-hungry nobles. It doesn't matter if you live in the city, the countryside, or a village. This world can and WILL get to you, especially if you're a commoner.

I sympathetically jot down Guy's words and nod my head like I'm a therapist. I visualize myself sitting on a comfy chair with a mini fountain peacefully flowing water like a river, and my nomadic _amigo_ recounting his story without hesitation. Perhaps I should have brought some bamboo or one of those mini rock gardens you can get on Amazon…

 _!_

Snap! Snap! Snap!

Guy snaps his fingers at me, popping the conscious bubble I'd set around myself. Annoyed, he says, "Hey, are we done? You're dozing off into space."

Embarrassed, I reply, "A-Almost! I've got one more question on here..."

I look down on the pre-written portion of my notes to see the last question I had for Guy. It read: _Ask about the Lorca/Kutolah relationship._

 **S:** The Lorca/Kutolah relationship? Were you referring to the alliance?

Rath had mentioned to me that the Lorca and Kutolah tribes had a defense pact several centuries old. He didn't have much more information than that, however; the tribe exiled him at a young age. Guy might have more context about this relationship since he'd been with the tribe longer.

I asked, "So, I was told that the Lorca and Kutolah were allied prior to the former being...annihilated at the hands of the Taliver. What do you know about that?"

Guy pauses to rub his chin in thought. After what felt like several minutes, he replied, "Yeah, we were allied with them, supposedly anyway. We hadn't fought a war together for several generations, and I know several of our elders were grumbling about it for a while. Our clan always got into skirmishes with the Djutes, and the Lorca tribe hadn't been aiding us as much as we'd liked them to."

The Djutes are the largest tribe in Sacae. This much was what I knew, but it never occurred to me that they were rivals with the Kutolah. I suppose an arrangement like that in an inevitability; strong regional powers tend to clash with one another even in this world.

Pressing the issue further, I asked, "How so?"

Guy replied, "Well, they've stopped sending warriors a month before I left the village. That's all I know, but the tribe were rather upset about it. Some called it a betrayal of our agreement, while a few pointed out the triviality of it all. We didn't need the Lorca tribe to help us quell these small skirmishes, but some of our leadership still felt slighted. So, we stopped sending warriors to help them out too."

"..."

Thinking back on the massacre, I remember there being nothing but Lorca amongst the casualties. No Kutolah stood among their ranks, as had they been the Lorca would've had a much better chance in fending off the attack. This seems suspicious to me; the Taliver had been causing problems for the Lorca for Elimine knows how long. Surely the Lorca would have rallied with their much bigger ally to fend off this lingering threat to their survival...but yet...

They didn't.

Suddenly, a stray thought streaks through my mind. It's as diabolical as it was sickening.

I said, "The Lorca had their water supply poisoned for little over three weeks. Surely, the Kutolah would've received a message for help in that time. Why didn't they come?"

"I don't know."

Guy shifts his gaze away from me, but I don't feel like he's hiding anything from me. This seems like a source of embarrassment for him.

I said, "But you have to know something, right? You're from the _blasted_ tribe."

Guy shakes his head and takes in a tense breath. He clenches his hands white, and his eyes radiate with displeasure. It was a mistake to have spoken to him with that tone of voice.

He said, "I said I don't know! I already told you I left the tribe, if I hadn't I probably would've known!"

I stare at our newest recruit with still eyes. A single question streaks through my mind, and suddenly I remember what had led to this interview falling apart...

 _Do you think it's possible that the Kutolah allowed the Lorcan Massacre to happen?_

That accusation is as blunt as it is offensive. What drew my mind to conceive such a question? What's to be gained by asking it?

 **S:** Saying that will make him angry. Don't. Do. It.

...

"You can go."

Disgusted by my audacity, I tell Guy to leave. His tense shoulders relax and he nods, his temper having not reached its breaking point. I watch him leave our little space with relief, but meanwhile I'm still experiencing mental gymnastics.

What was I thinking? Why would I even fathom to consider such a conspiracy theory? It just doesn't make sense! No sacaen tribe would just stand by and let their brethren be slaughtered…!

Or would they?

I don't understand the politics of Sacae. I only know of the small window provided to me by Lyn, Rath, and Guy. On top of that, their culture is foreign, and bound together by a tight rope of laws. I must realize that as an American unfamiliar with their ways, my perception will be taken from a lens clouded with different values.

 _Argh! Why the heck does this have to be complicated?!_

Feeling stressed out, I ruffle up my hair and take a swig of water. In my confusion of grappling with the sacaen way of life, I think about Lyn again. I think back on the consuming sense of revenge that took hold of her the last time we met, and I wonder if I'd been understanding this all wrong. What if this sense of revenge didn't originate from a personal vendetta at all, but from a cultural fixation to avenge her kin? Is Lyn obligated to kill me, even if she doesn't want to?

 _!_

Thinking about it makes my head spin, and the only remedy is the flask inside my knapsack. I'll think about this at a later time, perhaps after I allow the timeline to change its course...

After I save the Kingdom of Caelin from certain destruction.

* * *

 **Several weeks later...**

It's now exactly three days prior to my "death day" in the previous timeline. However, I am not meticulously leading an army on a forced march through the terrain of eastern Lycia. Instead, I'm prowling through the woodlands of Caelin, alone save for a single attendant by my side.

Matthew said, "I hope you brought us out here for a good reason. I feel horrible."

After driving the Lausian army from their homeland, we voided sleeping and left to shadow them immediately. This saved us a few days in travel time, but we still linger behind by a few miles. Thus, I left the army with Matthew so we could try to beat the Lausian army to Caelin first, and thankfully our efforts have been successful.

 **S:** But why Matthew? Surely Erk or somebody would have been more ideal.

True, someone like Erk would have been the perfect person to take on a journey like this. However, I'm still upset at him for his blatant disregard of my letter. Even if with my warning he escorted Priscilla to Lycia for Elimine knows what reason, leading to an unexpected chain of events on the battlefield that faithful day...

I threw everything but the kitchen sink to save him and his client. I even kept the blasted mage by my side the entire day, ever watchful for stray arrows that could end his life. Thankfully, we survived the day with no casualties besides a few bruised bones.

At the end of the day, I chose _not_ to reveal my identity to him, at least not yet. I'm not planning to do so until I take care of the problem that led me to time travel. Speaking of which...

Matthew sticks his head from a bush and peers over at the guards standing by the castle gate. They stand looking over the landscape, mindful of any minute movements.

He asked, "So, what was the purpose of getting us here? Are we just going to go up to the front door and tell them about the Lausian army a couple days away? No...that's too easy. You got something else in mind, don't you, Samuel?"

As much as I'd like to tell Matthew of my experiences with the "Doctor" in the previous life, I can't. Sothis informed me that the stability of this timeline is finicky, and a single mention of that past could destroy this reality. I need to be careful with my words and refer to things as indirectly as I can.

I said, "I know I didn't tell you why I brought you out here, but you're right. We will warn the Kingdom of the impending invasion, but there's something else we need to watch out for. Nergal has a mole somewhere inside that castle and I fear it's plotting against the princess' life as we speak."

Matthew raises a brow. He had heard no mention of a mole during his briefings in Ostia.

He said, "A mole? How do you know of this?"

I sigh and hold my hand over my heart. I felt it skip a beat. I said, "I know this will sound crazy, but I need to you believe me on this. Call it...my homunculi's sense coming into play. I sense someone of my own in there."

 **S:** You're quite the liar. Have you considered a career in politics?

Matthew observes me skeptically and then shrugs his shoulders. He didn't have any reason to suspect ill intent in my actions.

He said, "Oh well, I believe you. I'll go in there, on one condition."

"What?"

He smiles and drops something only Matthew would say. He said, "You need to stop hating me. After we do this, let's have a drink and talk this out."

...

I laugh and pat the man on back. The gesture startles him, making his eyes widen like a clean plate of china.

I said, "If I'd hated you I never would have brought you along. Come on, I've had three months to get over what you did to me. We're fine, I know you were just doing your job."

 **S:** Hehe. Some could say you've had six...

Calming himself, he said, "So, how are you going to get in? You may have a different mask, hair color, and outfit, but I'm sure somebody will recognize you with that accent. Especially Lady Lyn."

I smile and reveal a sack I'd been towing around on my horse's back. Inside was a small potion with amber liquid.

I said, "Oh, I wouldn't worry about that. I got somebody to hook me up with just what I needed..."

* * *

 **Castle Caelin...**

Entering Castle Caelin drew a lot of suspicious glances from the locals, some of which were still shaky from the last masked figure to pass through the gate. We did our best to seem as unthreatening as possible, with the two of us cracking jokes like simple tourists. However, our true mission was anything but jovial. We were to deliver a message to the marquess, along with discovering the morph hiding within these walls.

The local marshal led us to the throne room for an audience with Lord Hausen (the steward had died in Azazel's rampage). The area is eerily similar to how it was in my dream, with the same banners, green carpet, and decor adorning it. The only difference is the bright sunlight beaming through the high stained windows, which felt warm against my worn body.

Looking up, I notice Lord Hausen sitting on his throne. His age is as obvious as ever, though his cheeks vibrated with good health. At his side in an empty, smaller throne...presumably meant for Lyn.

 _Where's Lyn?_ I wondered.

 _!_

The marshal said, "M'lord, two of Lord Eliwood's men have requested to speak with you. They are Lieutenant Vacia and his companion Matthew."

I didn't have much time to think on that. Matthew and I bowed to make our introductions, though I bent the _bare_ minimum to show respect.

I said, "Our deepest respects to you. I pray you'll treat us well."

For a moment Lord Hausen observes us in silence, and I worry that he'd snuffed me out. The voice potion I'd consumed earlier had temporarily eliminated every ounce of twang in my accent, and now I spoke a dialect of generic Elibean. Perhaps it wasn't the accent that got him at all, but the pocket watch I had tucked into my shirt.

 _Bah, what am I thinking. Lord Hausen can't see that well. He's an old man._

My assumption turns out to be correct. He nods his head approvingly and accepts us none the wiser.

He said, "House Caelin always treats their guests with respect. Please tell me, what brings you to my home?"

I reply in a manner reminiscent of the great German statesman, Otto von Bismarck. Well, that's what I thought in my mind though. In reality, I spoke in tone comparable to the understandable tongue of a radio broadcaster, like former Dallas Cowboys quarterback Tony Romo. Not a bad voice to have for sure, but nowhere near as booming or impressive as Otto.

I said, "I don't want to take much of your time, so I'll get to the point. The Lausian army is a day's march away, and they intend to take the castle."

Lord Hausen frowns, though not so much as to be advertdly noticeable. He closes together his wrinkled hands and acts in an instant.

He said, "Mhm. It appears there's nothing to do but dig in. Tell me, does Lord Eliwood intend to send aid?"

I nod, "Yes. For our part we will participate in the siege however long it will take. Along with being a tactician I am a civil engineer, so I can construct some defenses to temporarily patch up the breach in the main wall."

 **S: I wouldn't exactly call you experienced.**

Wrong. I spent two years interning in my old life and successfully transitioned into a 6-month stint in this one. I consider myself fairly qualified, especially considering my past achievements in bridge building and fortification construction.

I added, "I'll work with any material you give me. I'll even make some walls out of mud if you need me to."

Hausen considers my proposition, but the move was obvious. He said, "Very well. I haven't been able to procure the skills of an engineer in quite some time. Please don't disappoint..."

 _!_

He points towards a girl with lavender hair standing nearby. I recognize her immediately, and the sight makes me dizzy.

 _Florina?!_

He ordered, "Please show these men to their temporary places of residence. Take their bags too."

In my opinion, a Pegasus knight should have no business in being a bar hop. Their spirits are fluttery and free, much like the birds that graze the sky. However, I'm too shocked by Florina's presence to make my objections known, at least not until it was already too late...

...

 **S:** Snap out of it you buffoon! She isn't dead! She's very alive and about to take your briefcase!

 _My briefcase._

My briefcase was where I put my most treasured items. This included spare clothes, Lani's ribbon and locket, a few extra pairs of hands, and a weapon I'd sworn to never use unless I ever came across a threat that outweighed its potential of bodily harm...

 _!_

I spy Florina take my briefcase off the ground, but neglects to check if its half-broken lock was still attached. I rush over to her side to stop this, and I succeed, but not before a single item escaped its prison.

 _Damnit Florina._

A single, smoothbore flintlock pistol falls onto the ground. A veil of silence fills the air as everyone glimpses this futuristic piece of equipment. They're unsure what to make of it, but fortunately for me no one suspects it's a weapon.

I sigh and calmly pick up the pistol from the ground. Florina looks at my wide-eyed with confused panic in what she had just done, though she's as clueless as everyone else about the item she just revealed to the world.

Frightened, she quivered, "I-I'm sorry! So s-sorry! P-Please don't get mad!"

 _Mad? Why would I get made at you? You have every reason to be mad at me..._

I shake my head, "Don't worry about it. People make mistakes, besides you dropped nothing important. This is...a smokescreen maker."

I'm strategically lying to make sure the morph doesn't understand what this thing really is (for all I know he could be in the room). If he does, he may devise some measure against it, or worse, use it against me. I've already been hurt with this thing once, and I want to avoid having it happen again.

I said, "I'll take care of this. You can just show us to our rooms if you may."

I turn and politely bow toward Lord Hausen. I added, "We'll be taking our leave. I'll be meeting up with the quartermaster soon if your men can arrange it."

Lord Hausen nodded, "Consider it done..."

 **…**

We walk down the sparsely populated halls in expected silence. I do my best to wipe the blood from the familiar bright walls, erase the look of death from Florina's person, and put away the cursed golden eyes from that grim day. I look up at the ever imposing portrait of Madelyn, wondering what words she'd be saying to me right now.

 _Protect my daughter._

I suppose that's the least could do for her. A sinful man like me needs to atone...

 _!_

"Kenan, you all right dude?"

Matthew taps me on the shoulder, and I'm taken aback by his concerns. Of all people I've been expecting to be concerned about my health, Matthew is not one of them. I replied, "Huh? Of course I am."

He disagreed, "Nah. You've got that look of shock about you. Be honest. Do you need a break?"

"..."

 _Time to come clean, I suppose._

I said, "To be honest, Matthew I feel more stressed than an acrobat performing over boiling oil. But...the answer is no. I'll get a break once we finish with all this. Lives are at stake, and I can't falter."

Looking forward, another flash of Florina's dead body streaks through my mind. It makes me flinch, but only slightly. The guilt I feel for killing Florina is immense, but at least now it's no longer in the realm of possibility since I've become a regular consumer of Erk's numbing potion.

 _Self-Care, Erk's potion, and no more concussions. The holy trinity in keeping me sane..._

With that out of the way, Matthew points towards my briefcase.

Matthew said, "So...now that we're alone, are you going to tell me what's _really_ inside that briefcase?"

Amidst losing myself in my thoughts, I hadn't noticed that we'd ended up in a solitary part of the castle. Florina continues to lead the way unabated, though I'm quickly remembering how big this entire castle was.

 _It won't hurt to tell him here. Nobody besides Florina is within an earshot._

Clutching the handle of my briefcase tight, I replied, "I can't tell you much, but I will tell you one thing..."

"It's a fail-safe, just in case my inner strength isn't enough to turn back the will of fate."


	60. Oath

**Chapter 55: Oath**

 **By SodiumChloride12, derived from Fire Emblem, owned by Nintendo.**

 **A/N: They cancelled class today because of coronavirus. There's also talk about moving everything online. Fortunately, I'm still healthy, and if wasn't I'd still be fine since I'm fairly young.**

 **Take care and wash your hands y'all!**

 **N: Samuel confronts an old beast. Will he survive?**

* * *

Doctors. I respect them and acquainted with a few in my old world. They served as agents of modern medicine, administering cures and techniques that resulted from centuries of human development. I took them for granted growing up, but I didn't really understand what I had until I'd lost them.

Most "doctors" here in Elibe are nothing more than quack scam artists trying to earn a quick buck. They spread misinformation in the town bulletin boards, sell literal snake oil on the markets, and crowd out legitimate practitioners from the profession, all the while contributing zero advancement to the field of medicine and germology. These men truly represent the worst of society, and if I were in charge, I'd throw them into prison to rot.

Fortunately for the citizens of Elibe, Dr. Swift is not one of these people. He's a refined, determined gentleman dedicated to the welfare of his patients. Prior to becoming the surgeon general of Caelin, he had spent a career researching at the University of Ostia. It was here that he pioneered several techniques combining the natural phenomena of the world with the flamboyant healing magics of old. It was great work indeed; he had served his oath well.

The Healer's Oath. It's a short, concise gathering of words that every doctor, cleric, and monk abide by when they treat a patient. An unknown conglomerate of monks created it several centuries ago, but its words lay forever enshrined in history...

 _I swear by the Creator's graces to fulfill, to the best of my ability and judgement, this covenant:_

 _I will respect the hard-won advances made by those before me, and will gladly share further knowledge with those who are to follow._

 _I will apply the steps necessary to avoid the twin traps of overtreatment and therapeutic nihilism for the benefit of the sick._

 _I will recognize that sometimes warmth and understanding is more useful than a scalpel or a witch's brew._

 _I will not hesitate to recognize that sometimes I may require the services of other, more knowledgeable practitioners._

 _I will respect the privacy of my patients, as their problems are not disclosed for me to show the world. Most especially in cases between life in death. It is not my place to play with the politics of my surrounding, and I will not play the part of the Creator._

 _I will prevent disease whenever I can. Prevention is preferable to a cure._

 _If I do not violate this oath, may I enjoy a fruitful career and life. May I always work to preserve the traditions of those who came before me, and may the world be blessed with Creator's graces, as without She I cannot experience the joy of healing from those who ask for my help._

 _The Healer's Oath, circa 307._

I wondered if this "Doctor" is aware of this Oath. If he was, perhaps he'd refrain from toying with the world like some supreme being. Then again, is this morph even in the state of mind to understand what it's doing? As a minion of Nergal, it likely has no sense of empathy...right?

...

I'm still plagued with memories of this minion of darkness. Erk's potion had calmed down the experience to where I could sleep again, but it hadn't stopped me from regularly waking up drenched in sweat...

I need to stop this bastard. I will find him and stick my sword through his stupid mask. I need to so that the pain I felt bleeding out on Caelic stone wasn't for naught...

...

I will kill him. I swear. Even if it takes everything I got.

* * *

 **Castle Caelin...**

I brush some salty sweat from my brow and listen to the sea of workmen outside my tent. Dry dust, stone particles, and wood shavings fill the air. Sounds of mallets hitting stone rattle against my damaged senses like a pinball. I try to push away these sensations and focus on the crude blueprint I'd written up on a nearby worktable, but the going is difficult.

 _Why do I have to get a migraine now?! This has to be the absolute WORST time to get one!_

The blueprint is of a simple defense system to make up for the breached wall. Workers toil away putting up makeshift trenches, barricades, and other obstacles to stop the enemy. The noise is nearly unbearable for me to stomach, an ailment caused by the stinging migraine ripping my head apart.

Longing for relief, I press a rag of cold ice to my forehead and take a shot of whiskey. This does little to stave away the pain, but the mere act of doing it enacts a valid placebo effect. I sigh and look back at the blueprints, thinking about what other logistical necessities I needed to take care of...

Woosh! Flap!

The engineer's tent flaps open, and I spy Matthew's devilish grin undercut by a veil of dust. His boots are worn from walking, and purple fruit-like stains cover his shirt. He was here to deliver a briefing about something I couldn't pursue myself.

I said, "Matthew, I take that you've done what I told you to do?"

Matthew nods, "Yup. I investigated the premises for any sign of a morph, and I found nothing. I do, however, know the whereabouts of Lady Lyn."

Lady Lyndis. Best friend of Florina, and my former lover. It's been some time since I've last spoke to her, but unfortunately I can't afford to break that streak. Besides maybe Lani, she's the person who knows me best, and if anybody can pick out my accent through this potion, it's her. I still remember her cold blade cutting through my flesh like it was butter, and that's a reality I'd rather avoid...

So, I got Matthew to talk to her for me.

I grumbled, "Well, I suppose this morph is hiding in plain sight. Anyway, I believe the best course of action is to keep a watchful eye on Lady Lyn. I think the morph is targeting her specifically..."

This assumption came from the fact that Lyn was the only person turned into a morph in the previous timeline. Everyone else was either killed or had their bodies harvested of quintessence. My theory is that the "Doctor" isolated and turned Lyn first, using her afterward to overrun the castle's defense. It takes several hours to turn a dead body into a morph, as is stated in the Encyclopedia...

 _A detailed study on morphs, Page 51, Paragraph 6._

 _While we can construct a morph from raw quintessence, another method involves turning a freshly killed human into a mindless servant. Although it takes several hours for the process to be done, the extra effort in doing so results in a much stronger morph overall using the same amount of quintessence. The effect increases with the human's strength level pre-death..._

This is tricky. Not only do we need to prevent her morphification, but we also need to keep her alive. Lyn is already a powerful gal on her own, but add to that a degree of dark magic...

 **S:** I think we'd all be in trouble. Nobody would be able to stop her. Not even you.

Matthew said, "I understand. I'll keep a watchful eye on her for a while...but there's someone else that I think we need to recruit on this venture."

"Someone else?"

He nodded, "Yeah. We can't do this on our own. Fortunately for us, I know just the gal..."

As if on cue, the tent flap flips open again. I spy a familiar short girl wearing a set of Illian Pegasus Knight armor. It's...Florina.

A flash of bloody horror streaks through my mind, resulting in a barely audible gasp. I...I'm not prepared to speak to her in this manner so soon. But it's not like I have much of a choice.

Introducing herself, she politely lifted her skirt and bowed. The gesture reminded me of a duchess respecting a higher monarch, and I can sense my face turn a bright shade of red.

She said, "I-I don't t-think we've f-formally m-met. M-My n-name is Florina. P-Pleased t-to make y-your aquiantance."

I nearly hesitate, but my intuition pushes me to answer so I don't worsen Florina's anxiety.

I said, "I...m-my name is Kenan Vacia. Nice to meet you F-Florina."

Matthew raises his brow, presumably about my uncharacteristic stuttering. I hardly fumble over my words, only doing so during moments of extreme anxiety or distress. If I'm going to be honest with myself, speaking to Florina right now is one of the most mentally draining things I'd done in my life, even when compared to the literal slavery I endured in the past.

Florina, mindful of the anxious person before her, did not let up on her own habits. She replied, "O-Oh. M-Matthew told me t-that L-Lyn's in t-trouble. W-What's g-going on?"

I give Matthew a distasteful look for not briefing the young knight beforehand. He shrugs his shoulders and says nothing.

Thanks for leaving me out to dry…

I said, "S-She's...s-she..."

 **S:** In my good name, Samuel! Get yourself together!

I pause and take a deep breath. Matthew and Florina observe me in silent anticipation while I walk towards a nearby table covered with a mess of different items, which included items like parchment, a protractor, and a single metal flask.

I take the flask and empty its contents into my throat, allowing it to calm my nerves. The beverage was not regular whiskey, as I had since replaced the liquid with magically infused green tea.

 _That hits the spot. I love you, Erk._

Now suitably calmed, I said, "Sorry about that. You shook me up a bit there, Florina."

I mentally facepalm. What was there to be shaken up about? In Florina's eyes, I was just a stranger with a knack for mathematics. I guide myself back the script. I have no relationship with Florina, and should be fine speaking to her.

Spoiler alert: I'm not.

I hear a swift gush of air, and notice Matthew struggling to keep in his laughing. Florina's face goes red with embarrassment, and she turns away like a blushing teen.

Matthew said, "Hehehe. Has your heart taken a turn, Lieutenant? I never took you for the nervous type."

Florina quipped, "W-What does h-he mean?!"

I shoot a disgruntled glance at Matthew, who's making a career out of deriving comedy at our expense. I awkwardly try to give Florina an act of reassurance, but fall flat...

I said, "It's nothing, F-Florina. Matthew's just being an idiot. Forgive my weakness for bumbling like a senile old man."

 _!_

 _Why did I chose those words?!_

My words do little to quell Florina's frightful banter. Searching my face for answers, she asked, "B-But w-why are y-you stumbling l-like a s-senile old m-man?"

"..."

A drop of anxious sweat falls down the side of my face. She stares at me like a criminal on death row, and my mind races for an answer. Any answer to save myself from this embarrassment. Ultimately, I decide on the first thing to come to my mind.

 _!_

I said, "It's because I'm smitten with you, Florina."

 **S:** What.

For what isn't the first time in my life, Sothis chuckles at my misfortune. I can visualize her setting a up a chair for some free entertainment, just like Matthew had already done.

I cover my mouth in a vain attempt to cover my mistake, but Florina hears my words, anyway.

Going into damage control, I try to walk back on my words. I said, "No no no. What am I thinking? I don't l- I don't..."

Florina's purple eyes go red with itchy tears. She said, "I-It's because I'm ugly...right? I k-knew it...I can never be as pretty l-like Lyn."

I shake my head frantically, "No! Florina, you're one of the prettiest people I know! If I wasn't so hung up over Lyn, I probably would've pursued you instead!"

"…"

That, is exactly what you DON'T say to someone.

"Huh? You don't know me...or do you? Who...are you?"

Florina pauses and backs away. Matthew's laughing demeanor had since changed to a serious look of concern, and he stares at me as if pleading for me to save myself.

I quickly realize there's no other way around this. I need to tell Florina my true identity so she'll understand the gravity of this engagement. This a risky move, but given my loose tongue, I don't have any other choice. This is my Hail Mary play, and if this doesn't prevent Florina from ruining the entire plan I'd spent the past three months preparing...

Nothing will.

I sigh, a whisper a small incantation to undo the binding magic in my mask. It plops out of my face like a loose piece of clay, falling onto the ground. Florina covers her mouth and gasps.

She said, "W-What...by the Creator..."

I take her hand and bring it close. I want her to understand the sincerity in my words. I said, "Florina...it's me. Samuel..."

She shakes her head and takes a step back, nearly tripping over a loose chair I had lying around. Her voice quivers with fear.

She said, "W-What are y-you doing here?! You h-have the death s-sentence here. Y-You should b-be back in Illia, w-where it's safe."

Hearing her words of concern put me at ease. I'd half expected her to run off, but instead she showed concern for my well-being. Odd behavior for someone whose not on good terms with your best friend. Regardless, I take my blessings where I can.

I replied, "I-It's a long story. If you got the time, I'll share it with you..."

* * *

 **Several hours later...**

A gust of warm air brushes through the open front flap of the tent. My pocket watch sits nearby on an idle share of space on my work desk, with its hour hand flush at half past noon. It's been about two hours since Florina first entered my refuge, and now I'd filled her in on everything that had happened.

Matthew sits drowsily on a stool, his head unconsciously leaning against a pillar of wood for support. Meanwhile, Florina observes me with childlike wonder, her hands tightly gripping a cup of tea and her mind pleasantly combing over the knowledge of my misadventures.

She said, "Woah...I had no idea. That hand...does it hurt?"

I lightly nod and take off the white leather glove covering it. Its matte texture melts into the landscape like melted chocolate, though infinitely more strong than that delicate candy.

I said, "Sometimes. But I don't regret losing it. I always honor my promises, and I have a sweet spot for little girls. I hope to find her so this sacrifice wasn't in vain."

I clench my fist and let a bit of rust fall onto the floor. I added, "Genuine carbon steel. A very hard metal to create. In fact, it took me three weeks to pull it off. However, it's much more structurally sound than the aluminum I used before, and if I need to, I can crush a blade of iron on a whim."

"Eh…"

Waking up from his nap, Matthew rolls his eyes. He said, "You sound very proud of it. Cocky much?"

I said, "Perhaps. But I think I earned that right. Anyway, as much as I'd to gloat about my accomplishments, there's the task at hand. Florina, are you willing to help us out?"

Florina replied, "I...I don't know. If Lyn or the m-military found out I was working with you...I'd be in b-big trouble. Why can't I just tell the c-commander about the morph? Maybe he can f-figure it out what to do."

I disagreed, "I thought of that path myself, however we musn't. I have suspicions that the morph might be someone high in the ladder. Whether that be the commander, a lieutenant, or somebody else...we just don't know. We need to make our investigation in absolute secrecy, otherwise the morph may strike at a less than opportune time."

Florina frowns, and then rubbed her chin. According to her intuition and training, the correct thing to do in this situation would be to report me to the proper authorities, and allow the administration to find the morph themselves. However, whether it be her love for her friend, or some unspoken protectionism towards me, she ultimately came around.

But, not without a catch.

She said, "S-Samuel. I want to help you, but your past actions make me want to t-turn you in. You n-need to a-answer for the dozens of l-lives lost."

I replied, "But I didn't kill them. Azazel d—"

Florina does something I'd never seen her do in all the time I've known her. She _raises_ her voice.

She said, "Y-You were s-still complicit to his actions. You allowed it t-to happen, Sam. There's p-people out there that w-want justice. P-Please, you k-know running away like t-this isn't right."

"..."

I'm...ashamed. Florina had a point. I was complicit in Azazel's rampage, and even though I was not in the right state of mind, it still doesn't detract from the consequences of that decision. These people want to hang me, and they have every right to do so...

I think back when I nearly hung from a scaffold in Höger. The vengeful crowds, the jeering, the rough texture of the rope strung tight around my neck. That experience was unforgettable, and it was partly the reason I wanted to avoid the forceful arms of justice. That and the several other episodes I spent either locked up or enslaved.

But this puts me in an unfortunate dilemma. If I allow the forces of justice to apprehend me, that means no one will be present to take care of Lani. No one will be around to watch after her once I'm locked up, and she'll inevitably end up on the streets. I can't in good conscience allow that to happen, no matter what.

 **S:** I suppose you could ask Canas to care for her. I doubt he'd mind doing that.

Yeah, but would only strain on his meager resources. Canas is not rich by any means, and should he and Camille die in the wastes of Illia (as people often do), she'll be left in a worser predicament than if she'd just stayed with me.

I feel my stomach sink to the center of the earth. What do I do? There doesn't seem to be any good way to get through this.

I said, "Florina...I don't know what to do. I can't go to jail or Lani will have no one to look after her..."

Florina replied, "There's a dozen or so kids that don't have a f-father anymore. Does her p-personal needs outweigh theirs?"

Another strong piece of rhetoric from Florina. Despite her stuttering, I can't help but admire how far she'd gotten as a speaker. I wondered who went out of their way to be her teacher, or if this resulted from her own doing.

However, it was quickly becoming clear that the ending to this story was less than optimal for me.

I said, "Florina...I don't know how to say this lightly, but I just _can't_ afford to waste time in jail. There's too much at stake."

Understanding my words, she nods and begins to walk away. She said, "I-I can't just let you wander the halls of Castle Caelin. I'm g-going to tell the commander who you are. You mus— Eek!"

Acting quickly, I take a piece of white cloth and cover her mouth. She squirms and made every attempt to scream for help, but the cloth soaked up every decibel of sound. After several moments of struggling, she lost strength...eventually succumbing to the chloroform I had covered the cloth with.

Surprised at my sudden aggressiveness, Matthew said, "Did you just..."

I replied, "You go through enough stuff like me and you learn to have a fail-safe for everything. If you can, help me lie her down by her room. I spiked her tea with a special forgetfulness potion, so when she wakes up she shouldn't remember a thing."

Impressed, Matthew raises his brow. He said, "You sly dog. You don't just have an accent potion in that sack do you?"

I nodded, "You'd be right. Knowing a witch gives you certain privileges."

I sigh and pick up Florina from the ground. I felt guilty for having to do this for her, but I had no other choice...

Matthew said, "It's clear we're on our own now. What's the game plan?"

I think about what to do from here. Not having Florina to assist will prove to be a setback, but a minor one at that. However, as I claimed before, I always have a fail-safe.

I replied, "I...we're going to have to be sneaky about this. Fortunately, I have something to do just that..."

I motion for the thief to retrieve a potion from my sack. He obliged and hands me two flasks containing a red liquid.

He asked, "What is this?"

I replied, "It's our disguise. You'd better get yourself ready, we're going undercover."

* * *

Mademoiselle Estele taps her ruler over Lyn's desk. She observes her pupil closely, meticulously correcting her marks as she hoped to guide her through the mess that was arithmetic. Today's subject was basic algebra, and Lyn struggled.

Grimacing as her eyes danced around different letters disguised as numbers, Lyn said, "So...what's so important about this?"

Estelle replied, "Algebra is one of the most elementary subjects that every noble understands. Thus, you must as well. Please, Lady Lyndis, determine the root of this polynomial."

Lyn frowned and then digs herself deeper back into the textbook. She absolutely _loathes_ anything involving math, not dissimilar to a certain purple-haired noble from another reality.

 _This is hard._ She thought. _Why can't I be doing something else...like horseback riding back in my beloved Sacae?_

Lyn thinks back on the plains of her birth. She remembers the cool wind brushing against her hair, the wide open spaces, and the quiet nights spent in happiness. She was so much freer then...so much more content with life...

Interrupting her train of thought, Mademoiselle Estella jotted some numbers down on the chalkboard directly in front of Lyn. The sound is loud and obnoxious enough to send the princess back down to Earth, and she refocused back on the topic at hand. Algebra.

 **Find the roots of the following binomial. F(x) = x - 2x 1.**

 _Drat._ Lyn thought. She didn't know where to begin...

...

[Knock] [Knock]

A moment passed, and Lyn notices some knocking on the door. She looks over at Mademoiselle Estelle to see if she will answer it, but she appeared too preoccupied with smoking out of her pipe by the window. Stubborn silence filled the air, and Lyn wonders if she herself should answer the door.

She said, "Mademoiselle, there's someone at the door. Should I go answer it?"

Estelle lifts her nose like the posh aristocrat she was, and replied, "No. I'll do it myself, darling. Stay with your work."

She stood up and answered the door. Peering her head from her work, Lyn realized that there were two men in finely tailored suits. They had black and brown hair respectively, while also carrying the finesse of a man of service.

One of the men spoke, his accent a similar form of upper class to Estelle. He said, "Mademoiselle Estelle! Pleasure seeing this fine evening. We are the servants here to attend to Lady Lyndis. I am Monsieur Jean, and this is my peer Nemo."

Estelle raises her eyebrow in suspicion at both the man's claim and his accent. It came from the same region she grew up in and rubbed off on her the wrong way. Regardless, both Jean and Nemo bowed respectfully.

She said, "I don't remember Lord Hausen mentioning the hiring of new butlers. Tell me, _Jean,_ do you have a surname?"

Jean nodded and replied, "I do. That would be Passepartout."

Passepartout. In Estelle's home region of northern Etruria, they were one of the few places in the world that carry surnames among their populace. Passepartout was an uncommon name there, but a valid one.

Estelle smiles and firmly shakes Jean's hand. She said, "It's a pleasure having another one of my countrymen here at the castle, Monsieur Jean."

Estelle took a moment to observe the two new butlers before her. Jean was a dapper fellow wearing all black, and sported matching hair slicked back with lime juice. In contrast, Nemo was much less graceful in his appearance, and although his suit suggested nothing was wrong, his unkept hair set off a red flag for Estelle. It was Estelle's responsibility as governess to make sure competent servants attended to Lady Lyn, so she didn't hesitate on what she was about to do next.

Looking at Nemo, she said, "Nemo...that is your name, correct?"

Nemo nodded, "Yes, misses. I specialize in every c—"

Estelle cuts him off, astonishing both Jean and Lyn. She said, "That won't be necessary. As of this moment, your contract is terminated. Please leave the castle at once."

"What?!"

Estelle grabs a cane and pushes Nemo out from the classroom. Jean can only look out with horror as his sole companion disappeared behind an open door.

Estelle said, "I will not allow simple _thieves_ to attend Lady Lyn. Get out."

Nemo pleaded, "I am not a thief! I am a valet!"

"Out!"

Estelle closes the door shut, locking Nemo on the other side. Now content with the current state of things, she turned her attention back towards her pipe, and silently smokes out of it again. Meanwhile, Jean looks on with silent anticipation, and he mutters something underneath his breath. "Drat, that changes things..."

Lyn can't help but feel...a sense of familiarity over Monisuer Jean. She couldn't figure out why, as his accent and demeanor were foreign to her. But it's there and she can't shake it off.

Not wanting to appear idle, Jean looks over at Lyn's work and scratches his chin. Noticing this, Lyn scrunches over on her seat so that Jean could more easily look over her shoulder...

Jean said, "Huh, this a simple binomial. Lady Lyndis, do you require assistance in finding the roots?"

Lyn sighed and then nods her head in defeat. There was zero chance she'd be able to figure this out on her own while Estelle was preoccupied to her devices, so she accepted the help of this mysterious butler. She said, "Please..."

The butler smiles, and he pulls a chair beside her. Inspecting him, she realized he's a younger man in early twenties. His fancy suit didn't have a single stain on it, and his dapper red tie shined under the gloss. His finely trimmed face reminded her of an eccentric neighbor she grew up with, and his tanned skin of that of an old lover...

 _What am I thinking?_ She thought. _This butler isn't Samuel. There's no way..._

His voice had none of the twang of that southern Hispanic, and his hair contained no hint of curls. Samuel didn't have a history of clean-shaven faces either, and loved to keep a beard on his chin. His eyes weren't heterochromic either, reflecting a deep shade of brown. There's no reason to believe this man was anything else besides Jean, and so Lyn rested her suspicions.

Jean scribbles an "X" at the side of Lyn's paper, putting a "1" on the top quadrant and a "2" in the bottom quadrant. Lyn recognized these as the coefficients of the third and second values of the equation, respectively. Smiling like a mad scientist, he asked, "Do you want to see some magic?"

Lyn doesn't care much for magic, but she does care for the right answer. She replied unenthusiastically, "I suppose."

Undeterred from his student's lack of motivation, Jean asked, "What's are the factors of 1?"

 _That's easy._ Lyn thought.

She replied, "That'd be 1 and 1..."

Jean nods approvingly, "Correct! Now, what happens when you add those two numbers together?"

"You get...two..."

Jean scribbles down two pairs of parentheses, implanting an x in each. He said, "Okay, here's the magic. You take those pairs of ones and flip the signs..."

 **(x-1)(x-1)**

He asked, "Now...what is the root of the function?"

Coming to her answer, Lyn smiles and scribbled her answer on the sheet. Her butler was an excellent tutor, and she appreciated his help.

She said, "That would be 1. Thank you, Jean. You really helped me out."

Jean shook his head, "You had the ability to do this all along. Do you have anything else you need me to go over?"

Lyn nods and takes out another assortment of paperwork from her bag. She replied, "I do. We can work on this until my doctor's appointment in an hour..."

* * *

 **Later...**

Jean asked, "So, what's the purpose of this doctor's appointment?"

Jean and Lyn were walking through the hallway en route to Dr. Swift's office. The place was hectic with soldiers, staff, and others preparing for the inevitable siege. Soldiers marched in straight lines towards their defensive positions, and servants brought vital supplies to far-flung corners of the fortress. It seems odd that the princess and her servant were doing nothing to assist in the war preparations, and Lyn understood that.

Ignoring Jean's question, she quipped, "My grandfather has barred me from sparring or assisting in any war tasks. He says a Lycian princess has no place on the battlefield."

Shifting her eyes, she blankly gazes at the soldiers sparring outside. There were blades of steel clashing at each other, sparks flying as the practice blades sit idly nearby...

 _Is that sadness?_ Jean thought.

She added, "I fear I've picked up some disease. I struggle to get up from bed in the morning, and I have no energy anymore. I think Dr. Swift can help me. He's the only person who _can_ help me."

Thinking back on the day, Jean thinks about how Lyn appeared perfectly healthy during class. She never coughed and didn't seem to suffer from nausea or head pain...

Suddenly the young valet comes to bear with a painful truth. What if this disease isn't a traditional ailment, but something much deeper? Something much more personal.

Searching for answers, he said, "Mademoiselle Lyndis, does something trouble you? I can reassure you that as your servant I will not hold any prejudices against you."

Lyn shakes her head weakly, but Jean understood her complacency was a lie. She continues to hang her head down in silence, the front cowlick of her hair dropping like it were affected by rain.

She said, "No. All I want is for someone to spar with me, for an opportunity to shake the rules and regulations of nobility for a short while. I feel...so isolated around here. Not even my best friend Florina can hope to understand my troubles..."

Lyn's eyes water, and Jean responded by politely (and discreetly) offering a handkerchief. A brief moment of repose passes by, and this gives Lyn the strength to continue on down the hallway.

Jean asked, "If I were to offer myself as a sparring partner, would that make you feel better? Don't worry about your father or the soldiers finding out, I can reassure you I am a man of silence."

Lyn smiles softly, the first time Jean's seen her express happiness on this journey. She truly appreciated her servant's worthwhile attention.

She replied, "Yes, that would please me greatly..."

"Oh, I see we've arrived."

Lyn stops beside a large door. They were somewhere in the east wing of the castle, a section notable for its isolation relative to the rest of the building. The dark air sends a chill down Jean's spine. He didn't like this place one bit.

He said, "Mademoiselle, are you sure this is the doctor's office? There's nobody around..."

Sure enough, the once bustling corridors were now empty of all activity, as the vast majority of war preparations occurred elsewhere. Not a soul comes out here save for a single sentry at the end of every hour.

Lyn replied, "I am certain. Recently the doctor changed his office to the east wing so he could more effectively carry out his research."

"Research?"

Lyn added, "Yeah. He mentioned there was a new disease spreading around in the peasantry in the countryside. I sure hope he finds the cure soon."

Those words strike Jean like they were a bolt of lightning. His hands quiver, and his eyes quickly dash around the perimeter like a soldier searching for hostiles. Still, he needed more information.

He asked, "Lyn...about this disease. Was it named the Pestilence?"

"..."

"Yeah. How do you know about it? Did you speak with Dr. Swift?"

Jean's eyes widen with fright. He lurches himself between the door and Lyn, blocking the latter from touching the handle.

Surprised, Lyn said, "What's the meaning of this? I need to open this door!"

Jean shook his head, "I can't allow you to do that. Listen to me, Lyn. You need to run as far away from here as possible. There's a creature in this castle hellbent on turning you into a monster, and I think it's taken the form of Dr. Swift."

Lyn can't believe what she was hearing. This man had clearly taken a right turn straight into crazy town, and now he stood in the way of her getting the help she needed.

She said, "That's preposterous! Step aside, Mr. Passepartout. I respect you for your service, but don't make me do something I'll r—"

BOOM!

Suddenly, a beam of dark energy streaks through the wooden door and crashes into Jean's back. He tumbled into the air, narrowly missing Lyn and hitting the opposing stone wall _hard_.

Lyn exclaimed, "Jean!"

Lyn glances back at her wounded servant and then back at their attacker. Standing at the door frame was a man wearing a bird mask that covered his entire face, a man that by every indication should be Dr. Swift.

But he wasn't.

He said, "Ah...that spell was meant for you m'lady. My condolences to your servant that I just killed."

 _Killed?_

A shot of anger courses through Lyn's veins. She didn't understand what was going on, but her emotions compel her to fall back on her warrior instincts. She lowers her hand to her waist to draw her trusted sword...

 _!_

But it's not there. Royal princesses don't carry weapons around them in their day-to-day lives, and Lyn did the same after she settled down in Castle Caelin. She was unarmed and helpless, just as the "Doctor" had planned.

Lyn takes a step back. She now understood the precarious situation she was in and wanted to keep as much distance between them as possible.

She exclaimed, "Dr. Swift! What is the meaning of this?!"

The doctor chuckled, sending a new wave of fear down Lyn's spine. His voice was a corrupted version of that man's likeness, but the difference is as clear as day.

He replied, "Dr. Swift? Hehehe...he's no longer with us, I'm afraid. He impeded my research...so I rid this body of him for good. It was a shame really, without his insight I never would have existed."

Lyn cried, "What?!"

The doctor shakes his head, and then whispers an incantation underneath his breath. With those words a trio of gray faceless men erupt from the stone earth, their hands grasping rusted steel weapons.

The doctor said, "I've said too much. My master Ephidel will never allow me to continue my research if I don't cure you as soon as possible."

Lyn braced herself as the faceless men lurched towards her. She clenched her fist and buried it into the first monstrosity that went for her shoulder and followed that up by kicking the second one in the face...

"Hwaaaaugh!"

The creatures fall onto the ground with a triumphant crack. Despite her status as a princess, she still held all the knowledge of combat from her earlier experiences. She was not defenseless by any means, but that doesn't mean she's invincible.

"Waaaaaaagh..."

One creature grabs her by the arm and digs its razor-sharp teeth into her shoulder. She screams out in pain, flailing her arms to push the creature away. Eventually, she succeeds in this task, but not without losing some flesh in process...

Lyn said, "Ack! You fiend...that thing didn't have teeth be—"

Lyn stops mid-sentence, and gasps. The creature stares at her silently, its mouth covered in a waterfall of blood. _Her_ blood. She looks down on her right shoulder where the creature had bitten her, and nearly faints at the sight. That thing had punctured an artery...

"Ugh..."

 _!_

Lyn catches herself before falling onto the ground, but just barely. The pain surrounding her wound was nearly unbearable now, and it took everything within her not to cry out again. She couldn't show weakness to this medieval brute, especially when these might be her final moments.

She raises her head and meets the gaze of her assailant, the dishonorable plague Doctor. He chuckled lightly at his prey and then befalls into a villainous monologue.

He bellowed, "Hehehehe. Finally, I have you here. I will cure you of this Pestilence that infects your body. I will remake you into a better version of yourself, a stronger image that will serve me and my master. Quintessence fills your body to the brim, and I know that with your assistance I will take over this castle with little trouble..."

The doctor raises his hands towards the sky like a preacher praising their god. He said, "Mwuahahaha! Your servant nearly succeeded in dismantling my plan! Had he acted sooner, I never would have been in the position to fell him with one easy sp—"

"HOLD UP!"

A voice penetrated through the grim air, its tone live with vengeance. Suddenly, a masked figure walks in front of Lyn, with his attire startlingly similar to the late valet. In his grasp...no attached to his wrist was a single darkened blade that glistened under the dim sunlight.

The doctor exclaimed angrily, "Didn't I just kill y— wait a minute. That mask...that aura. I recognize it from somewhere. Are you a—"

" _Pulvis ex igni summam potestatem ades!"_

A single brush of purple flame extrudes from the man's left fingertip and towards his foe. The doctor couldn't react fast enough to dodge it, but he didn't need to. He simply raised his black cloak, and the magic dissipated around him harmlessly.

The doctor cackled, "Hahaha! Was that supposed to hurt?"

The man bites his lip, but doesn't back down. Still, he muttered, "Damnit. I'm still too weak to touch him with my spells..."

Meanwhile, Lyn sits nearby on a single knee. The surrounding air was turning hazy, but her curiosity pushed her to ask the single question that's curtailing her mind...

She asked, "You! Who are you? What did you do to Jean?!"

The man looks back at Lyn and smiled confidently. He digs into his suit and retrieved a small vial containing blue liquid. He throws it at the wounded princess and fixed his attention back at his foe. Sword firmly raised, he stares down that bird-faced villain with fire in his eyes.

He said, "Heal yourself up, Lady Lyn. You have no reason to be afraid of me as I am with Lord Eliwood's army. My name is Lieutenant Kenan Vacia. You have a right to a proper and thorough explanation, but I'm afraid that will have to wait. We need to take care of this accursed oath breaker..."


	61. Hard Fight

**Chapter 56: Hard Fight**

 **By SodiumChloride12, derived from Fire Emblem, owned by Nintendo.**

 **A/N: I'm going to take a week off. Partly it's so I can get some rest (I'm at that point where my vocabulary is starting to simplify), but mostly it's so I can edit out some errors my awesome reviewer's informed me about. That person is doing me a great service, and it'd be foolish if I didn't spend some time to heed their advice.**

 **Life's admittingly been tough lately...**

 **Best of luck to y'all. I'll be seeing you in two weeks.**

 **N: We continue on the fight between Lyn, Samuel, and the false doctor. However, first we look on how this all started. The backstory of Dr. Swift.**

* * *

The cold winter air breezed through the land of Caelin. It coursed through every orifice, opening, and aspect of society. Frost covered the land, turning its populace into a stagnant husk of humanity, a far cry to the vibrant life it once led.

Gone were the celebrations of mighty harvests, as in their place were the quiet praying of the religious. Meanwhile, the jousts and feasts of old served as a memory to the joyful, warmer months. The people found themselves huddled inside their homes with nothing to do, and thus they fell to tasks they'd put off for some time. Clothe weaving and tool-repairing became common occurrences in these times of quiet boredom.

However, with the huddling and fraternization of large groups of people, so did the manifestation of disease. The people habitually suffered through bouts of smallpox, measles, and influenza. These harbingers of death would kill large swathes of people within a short amount of time, sometimes even knocking out whole villages if they neglected proper quarantine. That was a reality that heavily weighed down on professionals like Dr. Swift, whose research into those "Big 3" (Smallpox, Influenza, and Measles) of diseases was essential towards the overall health and stability of the nation.

Dr. Swift worked long hours in his quest to find the long sought after cures. He travelled to affected villages to look after the sick. He observed them and noted their symptoms, putting all the vital information into a notebook he would share with his peers. This notebook eventually took on a name of its own, amicably called the _Salutem Encyclopedia_.

However, for all the knowledge contained within the _Encyclopedia_ , no cure can be found within its pages. No amount of labor on Dr. Swift's part could ever change that, as the technology of the time still didn't accept abstract concepts like germ theory. Thus, people continued to die on the doctor's watch...

At first, Dr. Swift hardened his heart against the realities of death. He carried on for years treating patients to often detrimental results. However, this all came crashing down one fateful day when he took a house call regarding a sick little girl. She was a small tike known around to be an enthusiastic soul, but when Dr. Swift found her, she was already in the late stages of smallpox. As with many other patients, Dr. Swift was powerless to help her and she died three days after initially contracting the disease.

Usually, Dr. Swift would silently carry the burden of this loss. But the little girl troubled him in ways he hadn't known possible. She had an uncanny resemblance to his blonde-haired sister who'd passed away when she was young, and her death reminded the doctor of his cherished sibling. That's all it took for the prolonged burdens of his profession to sink his soul, and he broke down sobbing inside his office at Castle Caelin.

 _Why does our existence have to be this way?_ He thought. _I wish I could rid the world of all disease and make humanity go through less suffering._

However, he knew such a fantasy was impossible. Eliminating all disease would be akin to removing the morality of humanity itself, and such a task was restricted to the divine nature of gods. He could never hope to acquire the talents of a god, and if he tried, he'd only invoke the Creator's wrath. He had to avoid that at all costs, but such thoughts ultimately lead to the same question explored by the handful of atheists hiding amongst the Elibean faithful...

 _Why would a benevolent god allow its children to suffer at the hands of these terrible ailments?_

Dr. Swift fell deeper into the pit of misery. He continued his life in silent suffering, unwanting to become a burden to the people around him. He knew that he would have to continue this way until the day he died, as is expected of a doctor in the medieval period. But that all changed one faithful day...

As the cold, bristling winter cleared way for spring, Dr. Swift found a mysterious letter on his desk. It came penned in solid black ink and enveloped in a blood red envelope...

 _Dear Dr. Swift,_

 _It's come to my attention you've fallen into dark times. Fear not, I have a solution to the diseases ravaging the countryside. Enclosed with this message are instructions for a special potion that can give you the intuition you need to cure the disease that took your sister, that accursed scourge of smallpox. Do not ask how I know of this, but be assured I am on your side..._

 _The potion requires a sacrifice to be effective. You must give up part of yourself. Worry not as the effects are temporary, but know I have warned you._

 _From, Anonymous._

Dr. Swift didn't know what to make of the message, and so he ignored it for several weeks. However, the crushing feeling of futility against the behemoth of disease eventually pushed him to make a decision he would regret. He ignored his conscience and made the silvery potion to the mysterious agent's specifications. Once he finished that, he drank it...

The effects were not instantaneous. Initially, the middle-aged man felt little difference in his overall sense of being. However, as weeks went by, the doctor felt subtle changes to his body. His skin turned a light complexion of gray, and his eyes lightened from their original shade of brown. His temperature went down several degrees, and his lips turned blood red. Nobody was aware of these changes besides himself, as the mask used to protect himself from disease now doubled as a physical veil for his visual characteristics…

But that wasn't all. As time went on, he gradually lost consciousness throughout random periods of the day. He found things around his office that had mysteriously been moved, or in other cases, damaged or destroyed. In addition, his equipment and research papers were tampered with, all under a veil of amnesia. He didn't understand how these things came to be, but this became clear to him soon enough.

To Dr. Swift's horror, a _separate_ persona had taken hold of his body. It took control during isolated portions of the day, though its intentions were as mysterious as the letter's author. Dr. Swift felt terrified from this discovery, but before he could attempt to stop it, it was already too late. The separate persona which took on the moniker of the "Doctor", stole possession of his body for the final time, and Dr. Swift's soul escaped into the afterlife never to be seen in the mortal plane again.

Thus, Dr. Swift's time on earth ended and the monster he helped create took a firmer grip on reality. This monster stole its accomplice's identity, seeking to complete the mission Dr. Swift never could complete himself in its own disturbing ways. It sought to cure the world of the "Pestilence", a disease in no way related to smallpox. However, this only came secondary to his ultimate wish to please the man who'd sent the late doctor that after-mentioned letter...

A puppeteer hiding in the shadows. Who will stop this villain from achieving his goals?

* * *

 **Castle Caelin...**

"You accursed snake!"

I swing my blade at the false doctor with all my might, but grimace when it only slices through air. My foe contained limberness comparable Lyn despite his lanky appearance. Even so, he had only dodged by a margin of several inches, and this motivated me for further aggression.

I exclaimed, "Get back here! I won't lose to the likes of you!"

Lyn's sitting nearby, clear from the dangers of battle nursing to her wound. I'd give her my pouch of elixir to stop the bleeding on her ruptured artery, though it was taking some time to regain her bearings. This left me to deal with the false doctor and his "patients" alone.

The false doctor's patients were a half-dozen (or so) zombie-like creatures with blank faces and gray skin. They're rather insignificant enemies to deal with alone and only took a couple sword swings or a few fire spells to kill. However, what they lacked in with terrible tangibles are more than made up for with sheer numbers. I find myself dancing in between the individual minions to avoid getting overwhelmed…

The doctor cackled, "Mwuahaha! Do you really think you can hurt me with that little sword of yours! You need to humble yourself, young man!"

He whispers an incantation, and a bolt of cool, white lightning cruises through the air. The magic lands squarely on my chest, crushing it with its package of powerful holy light...

"Aaack!"

I scream out in pain and cough out a pint of blood. That _hurt_. However, I knew that this alone would not kill me. My high resistance aspect secured that much. Even so, I can only take a few more of these before I meet my end. I need to be more careful about how I traverse through the field of battle, otherwise all the trouble I took in getting to this point will be for nothing...

I stumble back and catch myself with my blade. Wiping some blood from my lip, I shake a sinking feeling in my chest…

 _My lung has collapsed. I need to take it easy…_

Looking back at the false doctor and his minions, I weigh my options...

 _Okay, there only seems to be one way to go about this. I need to deal with the minions first before I can touch the doctor. That's my plan of attack..._

 _…_

I sigh and lift the bottom end of my mask, which had fallen down slightly. Perhaps I've been thinking about this all wrong. I don't _need_ to deal with this wretch alone. I can just flee with Lyn and let the army deal with this.

 **S:** That sounds like a good idea. You're still too weak to deal with these guys. Grab Lyn and go!

Committed to this new venture, I turn around and run towards the heir to Caelin. She looks at me surprised and cautiously observed the blood dripping from my chest.

She said, "What's going on? Are you hurt?"

I replied, "Yeah, but that's not the point. I am not equipped to deal with these guys, and you're still too injured to make much of a difference. We need to go and warn the army about this guy."

Lyn nodded in agreement. She said, "Good idea!"

Taking the initiative, I lift her up from the ground and we quickly make a dash towards a gap in between two patients blocking the hallway. One of the gray creatures tried to stop us with its bare hands, but I lower my shoulder to truck it onto the ground. Now, with nothing in our way, we were scot-free…

If only it were that easy…

Thud!

We bounce off the side of an invisible, magical wall. It knocks me off the flat side of my feet and sent me straight back into the unprepared arms of Lyn...

"Oof!"

The sheer velocity and weight of my body flings us both onto the ground, but somehow we avoided serious injury. We rise from the ground confused, though it doesn't take long for us to realize what had just happened.

Lyn asked, "What was that?"

I rest my hand on what just hit us, and I note its translucent properties. It acted much like a solid, though irritating to the touch…

I replied, "An invisible wall composed of...dark magic. It stung when I hit it too. There's no doubt about it, that bird-faced mongrel has us trapped."

The false doctor observed us like a hawk stalking its prey. Meanwhile, I attempt to break through his spell, first with my own magic, and then with my blade. However, all my attempts proved futile.

I muttered, "It's no use..."

 _!_

"Kenan! Watch out!"

Noticing Lyn's warning, I turn around just in time to catch the sword of a minion with my metal hand. The blade creeks and flexes, but doesn't shatter under the pressure of my strength. Unfortunately, I'm in no position to stab it or conjure a spell, so I'm helpless should another one of these things join the fray.

 **S:** Samuel! Your red dagger! Give Lyn your dagger!"

I exclaimed, "Lyn! My dag— get back you faceless curr! There's a dagger on my waist!"

My dagger glittered in its position on my belt. Acting on her instincts, she fluidly pulled it out of its guard and slashes the creature's arm. Weird black liquid oozes from its wound...

Lyn said, "What is that?!"

The liquid appeared metallic in nature, with its closest counterpart being mercury. However, it moved and _squirmed_ like a symbiote searching for a new host, wriggling around aimlessly in its quest of attaching to organic life. At first, wriggled around blind to our presence, but then the liquid inched within a foot of my person…

And shot directly up my nose.

 _!_

Consumed with fear, my hand _phases_ through the blade, and I free myself just in time to catch the ooze with my metallic hand. I follow this up by swiftly reciting the fastest fire spell of my life, a task that would've made my magic teacher proud.

" _Pulvis ex igni summam potestatem ades!"_

Magic courses through my hand, and it turns red hot. Anger coursing through me, I incinerate this being of darkness with everything I have...

I exclaimed, "Get off me!"

The ooze takes the flames head on, writhing up like a burnt piece of vegetation. Now sufficiently weakened, I chuck the symbiote halfway across the room, where it disintegrated into gray ash. Lyn nods her head in recognition of what I had just done, but she's still too shaken up by that experience to do anything else.

Pointing my finger at the doctor, I exclaimed, "You...let us out! Or do I have to come over there and make you?!"

The doctor chuckled, "Why so much confidence? Do you hear yourself? You sound like a lout unfamiliar with their own strength. Tell me, are you accustomed to bending to the will of others?"

 _!_

I stand in striking silence. I wanted to talk back, but his words removed all the wind from my sails. That's because my opponent had just took to light an unwelcome truth...

I really did bend to the will of others. Whether it be a bandit on the battlefield, or a high-class marquess in Ostia. I've been so used to being weak that I don't know how to seem threatening. Thus far I'd been making do by swearing and yelling a lot...but my opponent saw straight through that. Odds are, Lyn probably had too.

I replied, "T-That's none of your business."

 _Ugh..._

I'm expressing weakness in my voice, and I can't tone it down. All of my confidence evaporated in an instant. He has all the momentum now, and I just _know_ that Lyn feels that way too. Deep down, I feel like a loser trying to play the part of a hero. Nothing more, nothing less...

However, I acted too quickly to discount Lyn's fortitude. She was the anchor that kept our relationship together when we were lovers, and now she served that same role in a different capacity. To keep our wits ahead of the enemy, and to never give up no matter what.

She stepped forward, and suddenly the surrounding air changed. I'm in awe of her strong sense of defiance, and I let her take the floor. She exclaimed, "You do well to keep your mouth shut. This wall may keep us from going out, but it also serves as your prison. A sentry will be here by the end of the hour, and once he finds you I can guarantee the Caelic army will stop you."

The doctor replied, "Oh? You'll be long dead before that comes to pass. Not only do these walls block people, but they also muffle sound. Nobody is aware of what we're doing."

Lyn said, "But it can't be long before the sentry comes by."

The doctor cackled, "Hehehe. Ms. Lyn, when was the last time you'd checked the time? I see your friend has a pocket watch in his possession."

I gulped. Digging down in my stained pocket, I retrieve my watch and open its case. I learn the time, and my heart sank to the center of the earth.

"..."

Lyn asked, "What time is it? Kenan..."

"…"

"Five past six. The sentry's already made his rounds. He won't be back until seven o'clock."

I ball up my shaking fist and press it against my head. This situation felt incredibly stressful for me, and I'd do anything to have a nice, warm glass of green tea. What am I supposed to do? The enemy both outarm and outnumber us. I...I just...

 _!_

Noticing my shaking hands, Lyn rests her hand above my shoulder. Her grasp sends a nostalgic aura of comfort through me, and my racing heart becomes as cool as ice. She whispers honeyed words into my ear...

"It's okay, Kenan. We'll get through this. I know we can."

It'd be wrong for me not to admit that this felt a bit weird. These were the very hands that tried to kill me nearly six (effectively 12) months ago. Lyn truly represented a type of human rare here in Elibe. She really understood how to get to people's hearts, although she didn't know how to deal with her own.

I replied, "T-Thanks Lyn. I'm sorry, but I think I require your assistance in this matter. Can you fight?"

Lyn silently nods while brandishing the sword that used to belong to the doctor's former patient. It was a rusted steel weapon unfit for normal combat, but it'll serve well in Lyn's possession. I know of it.

She said, "Do you take me as a damsel in distress? I have to admit, it hurts to move my right arm. However, if you keep that side of me covered, we should be okay. You can be my peerless right-hand man, and I your fearless warrior!"

 _!_

Hearing those words sends chills down my spine. This whole engagement was eerily like the one where Lyn and I had first met. My companion noticed this too, and she covers her mouth as if doing that could erase what she had just said.

She said, "Oh my, I didn't mean to say that. I'm sorry, you just remind me of someone I once knew. Someone I cared a lot about..."

"W-What..."

She shakes her head and regroups her bearings. I do the same. Now was not the time to ponder the past, but to secure for ourselves a future without being six feet underground. I grip my fist tight, and placing myself on Lyn's right-hand side, I lurch forward to begin combat. Together, we screech out a battle cry that exemplified the ferocity and desperation carried deep within us both.

"HWUAAAAAAAAAGH!"

* * *

 **Nearby...**

 _Ugh, I can't believe that lady sniffed me out. Pity..._

Matthew sulks alone in the castle mess hall. Before him was a single plate with an uneaten egg roll, it's cold texture unappetizing for consumption. Matthew sticks his fork into it as to solicit a response, but the roll cracks when its solid exterior touches the fork. A somber reminder of the bleak situation the young thief was in...

Upon being discovered by Lady Estelle, Matthew went back to the tent and allowed the effects of the disguising potion to wear off. After that, he spent several hours trying to find Lyn and Samuel to no avail. He'd since resigned himself to eating subpar food at a bottom-rate cafeteria, and boredom became the new norm.

 _What do I do now?_ Matthew thought. _Wait until the army comes? No, I can't do that. I should keep trying to find Sam, but where do I go?_

Matthew had already searched most of the common areas in Castle Caelin. He checked the library, garden, training grounds, and even the royal chambers. Erm...never mind how he secured access to that last part. Thieves have their ways.

 _!_

Voices permeate through the silence. They're scruffy and reminds Matthew of older men. Lying his head low, Matthew shamelessly eavesdrops.

The first voice said, "Aye, I just came from the Eastern wing of the castle. It was a simple job really, nobody ever goes out there. I just gotta make sure the supplies we have stored there aren't being tampered with."

The second voice, presumably a friend, replied, "Hey, that's not true. I hear Dr. Swift's moved his office out there. What a weird fellow he is, Chet."

Matthew's ears perk up like a rabbit. His training as a spy have taught him how to recognize a piece of vital information, and this conversation intrigued him...

Chet said, "A weird fellow? He's way more than that, Baker. I hear he's been eyeballing the princess as of late. Creepy bastard, I don't want to think about what forbidden things go on in his mind."

Baker replied, "Tell me about it. I went to his office for an eye exam, and the lout barely looked at me when he said I was infected with the _Pestilence_. He wanted to stick a needle in me to conduct more tests. But I didn't listen. I snuck out of his office the moment he turned his back on me."

Flabbergasted, Chet said, "Are you serious, man? Why didn't you report him to the MP (military police)?"

Baker said, "I really should have, but I know the marquess has been favoring that man since day one. I don't want to get on his bad side and lose my job, you know?"

"..."

The pair walked past him and eventually came out of an earshot. Satisfied with his new trove of information, Matthew understood where he needed to go. Blade firmly on his waist, he marches faithfully towards the eastern wing of Castle Caelin...

 _Interesting._ He thought. _Let's hope I can find something useful..._

* * *

Time. To a man like me, it's perhaps my most precious commodity. It's essential for decision-making, and can be the difference between life or death. However, do not think having Time in abundance is always a good thing. Sometimes, it can be a hinderance in what I'm trying to accomplish. Much like what I'm doing now.

 _Tick. Toc._

The time is half-past five. We have thirty minutes until the sentry comes by again. It's only been a half hour since we began fighting the doctor and his patients...but I wish we had less time to fight this mongrel. We have so much time left...but we're already at our wits' end.

Exhausted and dazed beyond comprehension, I lean against a nearby stone wall. My body is bruised and bloodied, though my chest's in much worse condition. I'd taken the brunt of our opponent's magical attacks, most of which were targeted at Lyn. It hurts to breathe, and my heart feels like it's at the cusp of collapsing under its own weight.

I wipe my mouth of dry blood, and look over at Lyn. She's not doing much better, and had during the battle torn her hamstring while dodging an attack. In addition, cuts and scraps covered her body like she'd gone through knife storm. It felt like we were looking straight at death's face, and it wouldn't be long until we succumbed to its embrace.

We had done much damage to the enemy. Several patients lay dead on the ground, their eerie black ooze seeping into the ground like oil. Broken weapons litter the ground, and the walls simmered black from magic. Fortunately, I'd managed a couple of blows on the false doctor, but our efforts were minute compared to what needed to be done to secure victory. Several minions still walk the earth, and the false doctor continues to torment us with his speech.

He said, "Hehehe. You took me for quite the ride there. Unfortunately for you, it's just not enough..."

He raises his hand towards us, and a minion armed with an axe dashed forward. Lyn tried to move, but her body refuses as she's reached her limit. Overcome with emotion, I muster the last of my strength to parry the blow, and use my final ounce of mana to deliver a fatal fire spell into its brain.

"Pulvis ex igni summam potestatem ades!"

The beast falls over once its head became ash, and I do too. The burgeoning effects of Mana Deprivation grips me like a familiar enemy, preventing me from moving again. My hazy eyes glide over to Lyn's, whose face wrought with despair when she realized our helplessness.

Lyn muttered, "Kenan, are you all right?"

Unwilling to lie, I replied truthfully, "No. I'm done here, Lyn. When the false doctor approaches again, I want you leave me here and defend yourself to the best of your ability. I'll just slow you down."

Lyn shakes her head, "No! You've had my back, and now I'll have yours. We'll fight to the bitter end!"

Unable to hold my emotions, a tear comes down the side of my face. Lyn drops down and grabs my hand like I'd were an old man about to die at my bedside. I didn't want to die. In fact, I feared death.

I said, "Lyn...I'm so sorry. I tried so hard. I couldn't prevent the worst from happening again..."

A look of intrigue streaks across her face. She asked, "Again? Lieutenant, what are you talking about?"

I replied, "Lyn...I'm not...my name is..."

 _!_

A swift contraction overwhelms my chest, and my right arm goes limp. Soon after, everything goes black...

* * *

Lyn gently lies Kenan onto the ground, and a new sense of vigor courses through her veins. She used this new energy to firmly lift her blade from the ground, and after setting her feet, prepared herself for the next wave of minions.

Staring at the doctor, she said, "You! You will pay for what you had done!"

The doctor snickered through his porcelain mask, "Those are big words for someone who's about to die. Do you want those to be your last?"

Lyn silently (and defiantly) spits at her villains direction. This was the sacaen way of showing disrespect towards an enemy, and although this gesture was lost on the vile doctor, it did well to lessen the anxiety pent up in Lyn's heart. She did her best to hide that accursed emotion from her enemy, and thankfully that venture was successful.

She can't afford to lose this fight. She needs to survive, both for herself and the stranger passed out on the ground. She digs her heels deep into the earth...

She exclaimed, "Come at me, you vile beast!"

Just like that, a trio of the last surviving patients attacked. They came at her with flailing arms amid their blank faces, an unsettling sight to everyone but the most hardy of men. With that being said, it was probably a good thing Lyn's a woman. She had no fear, with the only emotion in her body being her determination to survive.

The sacean blood in her veins activated, and she cuts down the first beast cleanly with her blade. Black ooze originating from the wound spurts out towards her, but she'd seen firsthand what it can do to a human being. Focusing on her footwork, she sidesteps the liquid seamlessly, allowing it to soak into the cobblestone floor far from reach.

She fights through the searing pain in her shoulder. She dispatches the next minion just as easily as the last one, and decapitated it. It crumbled onto the ground like a rag doll, its gray skin almost mixing with the ground. This too dissociated into a puddle of black ooze, and Lyn had to take great care in avoiding it.

 _Yuck._ She thought. _I need to make sure this thing doesn't grab me..._

Jumping over the ever increasing lake of black ooze, she impales the final minion of this villainous false doctor. Unfortunately, she neglected to damage its head, and the minion reached out to grab her with its talon-like hand. Lyn only stabs it with a dagger after sustaining a deep cut on her forearm.

Crying out in pain, she exclaimed, "Ack!"

She trembled backwards and nearly collapsed back on the floor again, but a rush of adrenaline kept her afloat. Her blood drips onto the ground like some perturbed leaky fountain of crimson. Lyn did everything in her power not to look at it, otherwise the mere shock may eliminate the last vestiges of strength she had left.

Switching her blade over to her left, she eyed her final opponent like a gladiator on their last legs. The pain pulsating from her legs, wound, and shoulders had given her vision a tint of red. Every part of her body was telling her to stop, to give up. But she won't. She will kill this damn doctor, even if it kills her.

The doctor cackled, "My my, what do you think your doing princess? Why won't you just keel over and die like your friend over there? It'd save us both a lot of trouble..."

Lyn said, "I don't know who or what you are, or even why you're doing this. But know this. I _will_ stop you here. I will not cease to resist until my dying breath!"

The doctor laughed, "Hahaha! That's exactly what I want to hear! You are an excellent specimen in life, and I'm sure you'll be even more exquisite in death! Come, let us dance the waltz of everlasting servitude!"

He draws his cane and unscrews the bottom half to reveal a short rapier. The weapon leaves a bright glare against the isolated rays of sunlight, and its sharp edge sends a sharp chill down Lyn's spine. The sight made her look on in utter disbelief; the late Dr. Swift wasn't known to carry to such a weapon on his person.

But Lyn couldn't spend an eternity gawking over the unexpected blade. The doctor sprung forward like a hawk, twirling the air in a manner impossible by regular human standards. She somehow parries his initial blow with her sword, but the sheer force behind it caused something to snap...

 _!_

Lyn instinctively grabs onto her shoulder, tears falling down the sides of her face. Her entire left arm had suddenly gone numb; the culprit of which likely being a newly dislocated shoulder...

"Agh!"

The doctor attacks again, this time delivering a deep cut across Lyn's back. Blood spews across the ground, and with it so did Lyn herself...

She had finally hit her limit. She was done for.

Her villain stands over her struggling body like a usurper who'd just taken the throne. His black jacket rides with the wind coming from a nearby window, and he takes a moment to adjust his black brimmed hat. This was his moment of victory. His moment of triumph.

He bends down and grabs Lyn by the scruff of her collar. She squirms to resist, but her energy is fleeting. She was at death's door, as was the Lieutenant's breathing heavy breaths on the ground.

He said, "I'm afraid our time here is up. You put up a good fight, but your body's infected with the Pestilence. I will cure you of this disease, and together we will serve my master."

Hardly able to breathe, Lyn replied, "Y...You...I...won't...no..."

The doctor snickered, "No need to speak, princess. Hold still so I may pierce your heart."

The doctor retrieves Lyn's small red dagger, and holds it near her chest. Holding her firmly with his left arm, he prepares to do the deed that will finally bring this all to rest...

...

But he would never have the chance.

BOOM!

Suddenly, a crack ruptures through the calm air. A small flash of light followed by a thick black smokescreen covered the field of battle, forcing the doctor to drop his hostage. His upper body recoiled back in an instant, and the doctor experiences pain in his chest he'd never thought possible. It sends him back trembling back towards the doorway of his office.

He exclaimed, "W-What?!"

The smoke clears, and he notices a lone figure standing with a small cylindrical object in his right hand. The object had a smoke hole at its end, with the metal being red-hot. Wincing his eyes, he can hardly believe the man behind it all.

He exclaimed, "You...what did you do to me?!"

Lowering his weapon with shaking hands, Kenan lets fly a devilish smirk. He was hunched over in a barely tenable position, and his body aches with countless injuries. However, there was a crazed sense of madness to this man, an insanity not seen at the beginning of the battle. Kenan had succumbed to his demons from within and carried on using the power of his diluted mind.

He spoke with an scrambled overtone, "I-I got you...I really got you. I thought for sure this thing would blow up in my face. I...I really am a genius. He..he..."

He ruffled the curls of his hair, though it didn't take long for him to burst out laughing.

"Hehe. Hehehehe. Hahahahaha!"

Lyn and the doctor look on with horror as a chilling, purple-black substance surrounded the crazed man like a flame. It distorted the very light around him, though not for much distance. It was unlike any of them had ever seen before.

Kenan chided, "Oh, what am I going to do? The void beckons me to give in to the chaos! It is so inviting...but I musn't give in. That accursed thing wishes to harvest my soul for the good of mankind! That just can't do...it just can't!"

He raises his arms into the air like he were the head of a cultist organization. Tears stream down the sides of his face, and the substance heightens in intensity. It covered the entirety of his body, increasing with ferocity as his mind dwelled deeper into madness.

Kenan cried, "What is this voice in my head? A little girl? Why are you telling me to calm down? I am perfectly calm, can't you see?!"

"..."

 _!_

Suddenly, the surrounding substance disappears. He lowers his head in numbing disbelief in what had just happened, and his mortality returned. With that came all the pains of the earlier battle, and he crumbled onto the ground as if nothing had happened.

Lyn looks on with shock in her eyes. Barely able to speak, she said, "Lieutenant...What on the Creator's green earth happened to you?"

Kenan raises his head in shame. He only says three words.

"I...I don't know."

"..."

"Mwuahahaha!"

The doctor rises from his state of weakness and approached the incapacitated Lieutenant with his chest leaving behind a trail of blood. Not wanting to stall this any longer, he retrieved an Elfire tome from his pack and prepares to dispose of this nuisance as quickly as possible.

He said, "I've underestimated you. Unfortunately, your luck's run out. Prepare to die."

"Ut ab inferis ad flam—"

"I don't think so."

Kenan raises his cylindrical weapon up towards the bottom of his enemy's chin and cocks its hammer back. The doctor freezes. Somehow, he'd loaded his weapon with a second charge.

He said, "There was a fifty percent chance this thing would blow up in my face the first time I fired it. At this temperature, the odds are at one hundred percent. If I'm going to die, I'm going to take you with me..."

"May this mark the end of the dominance of magic. May the age of science begin."

Closing his eyes, he pulled the trigger...

* * *

 **Far away...**

It's midnight, and a cool gush of wind breezes through the Dread Isle. It shakes the trees of their barren branches and spreads thick mist across the lifeless landscape. This included a small prison tucked inside a compound near the Dragon's Gate, a place as depressing as it was desolate.

It was named the _Gulak_ , its namesake derived from some long since forgotten language. Lying approximately 500 feet below ground level, it housed all of Nergal's most important prisoners, including several esteemed politicians, a few supernatural creatures, and a small, mostly human manakete named Laniakea.

They locked Laniakea behind bars, and she rarely saw any light. The little human contact she got came in the form of a guard who would slip a small tray of food for her to eat, but otherwise she existed in absolute solitude. Her cell was pitch black and cold, which didn't mix well with her feeble immune system...

"Achoo!"

Lani's sneezes, and she lifted her hand to feel her hot forehead. The months she'd spent in captivity were some of the worst of her life, and she feared she was catching onto something fierce. Something like smallpox, influenza, or scarlett fever. Even so, she spent her days longing for the time she'd finally be reunited with her guardian, but her hope dwindles with each passing day.

The words of her supreme villain echoed off the walls of her consciousness...

 _"He's dead! He'll never come back to save you! Submit to my magic! Submit to me, you damn insolent brat!"_

Nergal. She learned to fear that name. He would occasionally drag her into a room to whittle down on her resolve. She didn't understand why he didn't just kill her, but he had some mysterious purpose for her. One more complicated than a simple quintessential juice box...

 _!_

A chill travels down Lani's spine, and the thought escapes her. Longing for warmth, she wraps her arms around herself tight, and silently prayed for the safety of her dear Samuel. It was a variant of an old recitation Lumina had taught her a long time ago...

 _Almighty Creator, I pray that you can protect the wellbeing of that who I hold dear. Please be his shield, and may your grace repel all evils. I am but a humble sheep when compared to your power. Lend us a fraction of your limitless power, as only you can save us from the vile nature of the world..._

 _Please be safe, Sammy. You're all I have left…_


	62. Revelation

**Chapter 57: Revelation**

 **By SodiumChloride12, derived from Fire Emblem, owned by Nintendo.**

 **A/N: I know I said I was going to take this week off, but I decided to push that to next week. One day I was sitting quarantine when this chapter just...happened. I feel great about it, and I hope you enjoy!**

 **On a side note, I think I will stream my fanfiction writing sessions on Twitch. If y'all want to tell me something, influence the direction of the story, have me briefly look over your fic, or just hang out, this might be something you'd enjoy.**

 **My twitch user is sodium_chlouride12. I won't be accepting donations, so I won't be violating 's code of conduct. I'll be streaming on a random basis, but usually around 9pm CST. I know for sure I'll be streaming on that time today.**

 **In any other case I'll see y'all in two weeks!**

 **N: Samuel awakens, apparently having survived his most recent brush with death. What does fate have in store for him today?**

* * *

 **Early one afternoon...**

...

 _Ugh...I'm getting too old for this..._

Opening my eyes, I'm expecting to awaken in a finely furnished room inside Castle Caelin. Instead, I feasted my eyes on a dreadfully familiar sight. A ceiling constructed from dull beige canvas hung overhead, and simple bedding comprising a white blanketed cot lied underneath. Thick bandages covered every square inch of my upper body, with the most concentrated portion present around my head region. A single eye slit made up the gateway between me and the physical plane of existence.

 _Everything's hurting again. That's no surprise..._

I felt like I was in a body bag. No, a full body cast was a better description. Thick straps kept vulnerable limbs like my shoulder blades from caving in, and a huge brace kept my jaw together. My metallic hand disappeared too, with nothing but the underlying gauntlet visible past my wrist. Long, deep burns marks cover the entirety of my up body, radiating a deep pink glow invisible to everyone. Finally, my legs refused to move at my beckoning, and a long leather strap kept them up for support.

 _On Sothis' good name, I'm so beat up. I don't recall breaking my legs though..._

Closing my eyes, I try to think back on the events that led me here. I remember fighting an agent of Nergal's in Castle Caelin and using everything I had in Lyn's defense. Ultimately, that fierce enemy forced me to resort to my fail-safe, and after a devastating explosion, everything turned black...

 _That explains the burns and all this other damage. Magic can't fix everything, but I'm glad my wounds aren't too disfiguring..._

Luckily for me, there _was_ one part of my body I could move willingly. My left arm hung lazily beside this whole mess, and I used it to ring a small bell sitting idly on a nearby table. The bell gave off a small chime that teased the outer surface of my eardrums, and after a brief lapse of silence, I heard a noise come from outside my tent's thin walls.

Flap! Woosh!

Priscilla and Serra emerge, with both carrying their respective healing staves. My heart sinks when I notice the serious expressions across their faces, an emotion made much worse when I realize I had no method of conversing with them. Several of my vocal chords were borderline incinerated in the inferno, and the only thing that came out when I opened my mouth was pained air.

 _Oh no, this isn't ideal..._

Noticing my struggle, Serra shook her head and beckoned me to stop. Her hair waved gracefully in the still air, and her aura seemed peaceful. She presses her cold hand against the bandage on my forehead and whispered a small showing of goodwill.

"It's going to be all right. You're safe here. You got pretty beat up back there, but not to worry. We will be handling this."

I can hardly believe my eyes. Serra...being polite? Perhaps I could've expected this from a noblewoman like Priscilla, but not this pink-haired dynamo. This was a rare display of Serra's bedside manners, and the mere sight of it compelled me to obey.

She said, "Shhh...relax. We will use magic that will heal you up just fine."

She hastily prepares my cot for their operation, loosening some straps so that my bones wouldn't heal back incorrectly. Priscilla follows up by taking my vitals and jotting down some notes on a notepad...

Priscilla is the client I'd tried so hard to convince Erk in staying away from. She's a noblewoman hailing from House Caerlon, a family hailing from somewhere in southwest Etruria. Admittingly, that's all the information I have on her. In between the looming threat of the late doctor and my strategist duties, I hadn't had much of an opportunity to speak to her. That will have to change after I recover from these injuries, especially given the irony the current situation. I was willing to risk Priscilla life for the safety of one of my closest friends, yet here she was treating me with a clear conscience. Granted, it's not like she knew about the amount of power I held over her fate...

Priscilla said, "You must afford us your forgiveness. This magic can only be used when you're awake, and it brings with it some pain towards both sides. Luckily, the discomfort will the distributed equally among the three of us, so it shouldn't be anything too unbearable."

Intrigued, I raise a brow. It'd never come to my attention that such magic existed in Elibe, but I suppose there are many things I don't know of. By the sound of it, this magic appeared much more powerful than even the magic Niime used on me in Höger.

 _That's a good thing. I think you'd have to throw everything but the kitchen sink to fix me up now._

Concluding their preparations, they shoot each other a brief glance. The duo of clerics stand close, and after lifting their staffs into the air, they recite an incantation foreign to me in meaning. I make out a single sentence in their garbled mess of vocabulary, but other than that I'm left in the dark.

"Cari fecit benedicat sauciatis benedictionibus vestris!"

Suddenly, a bright white light illuminates from the ceiling. It felt normal at first, reminding me of one of those lights you'd see on a dentist chair or an operating table. However, this only lasted for several seconds, at which point it transformed into a blanket of needles piercing my entire body. I wince and grimace at the discomfort, but thankfully my many experiences with war had gifted me an amazing pain tolerance. I stomach through it like the countless other injuries I'd sustained in the past, though my healers weren't as fortunate.

After about two minutes of healing, a drop of sweat falls down the sides of their faces. At five, their breathing became shaky and erratic. I look on in utter disbelief at the literal deterioration happening before me, and while I want to scream out for them to stop, I can't. After ten minutes, Priscilla rolled her eyes behind her head and collapsed.

Serra ceases the spell, after which she collapsed on the ground too. I stare at the two maidens with worried eyes, and mentally sigh at our misfortune.

 _Damnit. This is going to take a while._

 **...**

I stretch and flex my healed muscles on my once binding cot, allowing the dimming rays leaking through the ceiling to kiss my body. My smile is as genuine and gleeful as it could be...

Exhausted, Serra and Priscilla lean against their battered staves. Their disheveled hair droops across their faces like they'd just endured spring rain, yet no such thing adorned the landscape this day. Mana deprived and lacking of energy, the duo silently congratulated each other on a job well done...

Struggling to keep herself up, Serra's sandals nearly slip off the ends of her calloused feet. She said, "By the Creator, that took a lot out of me. I think we did a good job, Lady Priscilla."

Priscilla agrees, still somehow speaking in a manner characteristic of her class. Her accent reminded me of one of those posh British ladies you'd see in Victorian England. She said, "I couldn't have done it without you. We saved the Lieutenant's life, who in turn saved the life of Lady Lyndis. In a way, you can say we saved the life of a fellow royal such as myself."

Hearing this, Serra scoffed. "Royalty? I'll have you know that _I_ am royalty, Miss Priscilla. It couldn't have taken anything less than the participation of two blue bloods to accomplish this feat!"

I notice a brief flash of intrigue from Priscilla. Unwilling to let this charade continue on any further, I opted to end this fantasy.

I said, "Nope. I'm not going to let you get away telling her that, Serra. Although I don't value you any less for being a commoner, you must learn to have others accept you for who you really are. An ordinary orphan, just like me."

Serra balls up her fist and sinks into a fit. I rolled my eyes as I waited for this little episode to blow over, though I felt much more guilty for having to have Priscilla experience this whole thing...

She said, "No no no! Why can't you just let me have this, Kenan?! It's the best you could've done after I treated your injuries!"

I replied bluntly, "It was you and Priscilla who treated me. You have my thanks, but please do not use your position to take advantage of others. It's unethical."

Serra shot back, "Ethical—smethical! You're no fun!"

She turns her back on me and stormed out of my tent. I sigh and mutter a minor swear word in my ancestral tongue...much to the confusion of the red-haired maiden still in the room.

" _Estupida_. When will she learn..."

"..."

 _!_

"Priscilla!"

I face Priscilla and shake myself from my momentary lapse of awareness. The poor girl had frozen up like a little girl watching her parents fight, and I knew I needed to explain myself.

I said, "Erm...sorry about that. We don't hate each other, I swear. It's just that...this is our way of communicating with each other. I like Serra a whole lot, but sometimes I just need to rein in the more...spontaneous parts of her personality."

A more vulgar part of myself probably would've just said: "I needed to put that girl in her place." Thankfully, I exercised an increased degree of restraint this morning, and Priscilla understood everything that I'd said with no complications.

She replied, "Oh...I see. I suppose that's how it goes. Tell me, I know that she and...my escort Erk travelled together for some time. Did Erk..."

I said, "Yup. He suffered a whole lot. Oh, and I mean _a lot_. Serra's a good soul, but their personalities just do not synergize at all. She would've done better with an extrovert like Matthew or Sain escorting her across Lycia. On the bright side, it appears that they'd grown on each other a bit. Erk tolerates her presence much more nowadays."

Priscilla nodded her head... _disappointingly_? A hint of jealousy flickered in her eyes, and I instantly realize I'd just stumbled onto something interesting. Very interesting.

I inquired (to the benefit of my friend, of course), "Is something wrong m'lady? You seem cold."

Slightly flustered, her eyes dash away from mine and towards a vacated patch of canvas nearby. She tucked her arms close to her body and instinctively grabbed onto some fabric on her green shirt. Her non-verbals were a clear indicator that she felt nervous about something...or someone.

She said, "N-No. I'm fine! It's just...do you think S-Sir Erk finds attraction in women like Lady Serra? I'm a-asking for a friend!"

I let a tiny, mischievous smile escape my lips. In my culture, we relished _chisme_ (Gossip) like this. Mexican-Americans such as myself would use information like this to wreak havoc onto society, regardless if it benefited friend or foe. I can already imagine Erk's face when I tell him he'd smitten the hearts of not one, but _two_ girls in this army. His reaction would be the subject of limitless entertainment...

However, as the tactician of this army and responsible adult, I am above such displays of immaturity. I will keep Priscilla's secret deep in the confines of my memory, where I will never use it to cure the long days of boredom I often felt on the road...

...

Oh, who am I kidding? Of course I'm going to tell Erk!

Nearly bursting with excitement, I decide to stir the pot when I still could. I said, "I'm not sure. He relayed to me earlier that he preferred women that were on the quiet side. I think I also remember that he had a thing for red-haired girls..."

Ill intent aside, nothing that I said was untruthful. Erk did indeed like quiet women with red hair. Then again, he also mentioned that he'd literally take _anybody_ who'd be willing to give him a chance. I hope he's willing to eat those words, as he's about to have two very interested girls form the precipice of his burgeoning mini harem.

Priscilla blushed, "R-Really?! Oh, you must excuse me...I'll be leaving now. Do you feel okay? Any pain?"

I nodded, "Just a little sore, but nothing to be concerned about. You have my permission to relieve yourself of my care."

Priscilla bowed respectfully, "As you wish. I hope you have a nice day..."

I nod as she filed herself out my tent. She'll most certaintly be making herself towards that studious mage, likely to engage in enjoyable small talk. That's _if_ Serra hadn't already caught up to him.

 _What a nice, fair mannered girl._ I thought. _Hopefully, I did both her and Erk a favor._

Oh, only if I knew what was to come...

...

I rise from my bed and take a glance over at the setting sun visible past a tear in my tent. There was still a bit of sunlight on the day, and although I could spend this time getting back to work, one final thing took priority...

The well-being of the princess I'd worked so hard to save. Where is she...?

* * *

 **Later...**

Before I could go about finding the whereabouts of Lyn, I needed to receive a briefing from Matthew about what happened between them and now. Turns out, plenty has happened since then, which I found out covered one week...

Shortly after going into a coma, Matthew stumbled onto what was left of me and Lyn. Fortunately for us, Lyn didn't sustain many serious injuries and woke up the next morning relatively unscathed. I, however, was not so lucky...

The blast of my weapon had destroyed my metal hand, and it sent metal shards flying straight into my vulnerable upper body. The shrapnel and ensuing fireball wreaked havoc on my flesh, leaving deep scarring that remained even after the extensive healing I'd received. Luckily, my mask was sturdy enough to prevent the worst disfigurements to my face. Even so, I'll carry the consequences of my decision for the rest of life...though I have no regrets.

The following day, the Lausian army attacked just like we predicted. They painted the landscape with their soldiers, and Castle Caelin found itself under siege. The Caelic army fought bravely and stubbornly in the face of overwhelming odds, but ultimately they capitulated when the enemy rushed their walls. Desperate to save the crown, the last remnants of the army helped Lyn and her legion break out towards the waiting arms of Eliwood's friendly forces, which had just arrived at the scene. All in all, this took about five days...

We'd spent the past day consolidating our position and restructuring our supply lines. The Lausian army had done little since taking Castle Caelin, and our standing against them is improving by the day. Eliwood had expertly cut off their baggage train several days prior, and together with Lyn's Legion...we'd effectively besieged the enemy. What a change of fortunes! Oh, how the table have turned!

However, all is not well. The Lausian army can break out at any time, and they continue to have Lord Hausen in their possession. In addition, Hector's attempts in soliciting aid from his older brother have fallen on deaf ears. This leaves us with no other choice than to commit to attacking Castle Caelin with everything we've got. We can't afford to lose here, imperialism be damned!

Sufficiently informed, I inquired about Lyn. I found her not sleeping in her tent, nor fraternizing with her subjects by the fire. Instead, she was meditating silently by a meadow, with her trusted knight Kent protecting her.

The sight was majestic to my eyes. She sat there on the flat grass in peaceful spirits, a state I hadn't seen her in since a simpler time. Her hair moved like a mast crossing a sea of green, and her skin fairer than a patch of delicate snow. Kent stood nearby, ready for the smallest of disturbances to her liege, and his eyes met with mine when I came into view past the brush.

Pointing his sword at me, he exclaimed, "You! Halt! Who goes there?"

Lifting my arms above my head, I replied, "Calm down there, soldier. It's me, the Lieutenant. I've just come to check on Lady Lyn."

Lowering his weapon, he chided, "Lieutenant Kenan? I see you've awoken from your slumber...but I'm afraid I cannot allow you to come any further. My liege has been going through tough times as of late, and would like this period to reflect on the coming battle."

I sigh in disappointment, but I understand it can't be helped. Her physical injuries aside, Lyn has suffered much with the loss of both her kingdom and her only family. If Samuel were still in good standing with her, I'd be able to support her through this difficult time. But, I'm not Samuel. I'm Kenan, an absolute stranger to the fair plainswoman of Sacae.

I said, "Very well. I'll be having the both of you in my prayers tonight. I'll work extra diligently to get back to work and devise a plan to get us out of this mess."

Satisfied with my message, I turned around and left the duo to their peace. I felt Kent's eyes skeptically observe me as I waded through the short grass, evidently he carried some distrust toward my person. I can't really fault him for harboring this sentiment, as I was an outsider to him. He might also sublimely contain some resentment for my slight resemblance to Mark/Samuel, but I can't know for sure...

 _!_

"Kenan..."

I swerve my head over fast, knocking my brain for a tizzy as it nearly broke the sound barrier. That might've been an exaggeration, but I'd been _dying_ to hear her voice the moment I first fell into a coma...

 **S:** Yawn! Do my ears deceive me? Do I hear the thoughts of a simp?

Sothis awoke from her nap and moved around in the innermost channels of my mind like a ferret crawling through plastic tubes. Unfortunately, I'm too caught up with the events of the physical world to talk back against this green goblin...

I said, "Lyn! Er- Um...Hi!"

Lyn raises her brow and crossed her arms in between her chest. They say the beginning is the most important part of a conversation, and I'd clearly failed in that department. She replied in a manner mixed between concern and mild stubbornness.

She said, "Erm, Hello. It's fairly late out, Lieutenant. What do you want to talk about?"

I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. In truth, a part of me thought I wouldn't reach this far as I'd suspected Kent would prematurely send me away. I felt like a simple-minded teenager struggling on his first date with a pretty girl, but this was not a date. Far from it. This is a professional conversation between a tactician and his liege...nothing more.

Taking a deep breath, I said, "I just wanted to c-check you out—no that's not what I meant! I wanted to check if you were okay! I got knocked out from the battle with the pretender so I didn't know if you were holding up well..."

Wow. I really am I simp. I can already imagine the roastings I'd have to bear if Matthew were listening to this. I'm fumbling through my words just like I did with Florina...

 _!_

I frown when I notice Matthew's red cloak dash across the dimly illuminated forest. A single thought was all it took to describe the sinking feeling deep in the core of my gut.

 _Fuck._

My face resembling a cherry, I cringe at the vulnerabilities of my personality. There was no use producing manufactured confidence now. All I could hope was that Lyn took mercy on my feeble soul, and sooner finish this conversation so I could emotionally beat myself up while in the comfort of my solitary bed.

Unamused, Kent stands in between himself and Lyn. Speaking firmly, he said, "If you cannot properly form words, then I recommend you leave here so you don't waste my liege's time."

"..."

What am I doing? Why is my anxious heart choosing to damn me now? Before, I wouldn't hesitate to fight back against an authoritative figure like this, but yet here I am cowering in a corner. This self-induced paralysis is the bane of my existence...

My emotions are the bane of my existence.

My mind's been deteriorating, and this meant my emotional highs have become higher, and my lows sunk deeper likewise. In practical terms, this meant I get angrier during times of ferocity, and more depressed during times of sadness. The culprit to all this was the emotional trauma I'd sustained in my painful existence here in Elibe, along with the countless concussions exacerbating the issue further...

In short, my past had transformed me into a very anxious and stressful man.

Just as Kent was about to lead me away, Lyn arose from her sitting position. She raised her hand, and the red knight stood in patient standby. She said, "Kent, that won't be necessary. If you may, can you vacate the area so we can speak privately?"

Kent balks at the request, and he raises his voice in protest. He said, "But m'lady! Caelin cannot afford to leave you undefended! Besides, we still don't know the intentions of this young man."

Lyn shakes her head, and to my surprise she firmly grabs onto my left shoulder. She said, "The Lieutenant saved my life, and although I don't agree with his means, I can respect the effort he put behind it. The Lieutenant will serve as my protection in the event of attack. Also, might I remind you that our soldiers have this area covered in our defense perimeter?"

The defense perimeter is a half-mile circle surrounding the main camp. In it, our sentries regularly took watch to ensure no enemy soldiers came to harass the army. Before, we hadn't been able to do something like this due to our lack of numbers, but the addition of Lyn's legion to our force changed that. Considering we'd only started doing this now, it's unsurprising that Kent isn't aware of this.

Kent sighs and obediently lowers his head to bow. He said, "Very well. Lieutenant, I entrust Lyn's care to you. Do not make me regret my decision."

I replied, "You won't. Make sure to get some good sleep, tomorrow will be a very important day. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

I watch in silence as he marches off into the forest. Turning to face Lyn again, I notice that Lyn had since removed her hair tie to let her hair loose. Lyn was conveying a more laid-back attitude towards me, though I can't understand why.

I said, "Lady Lyndis, I'm pleased to see y—"

Lyn said bluntly, "You can cut the charade, Samuel. I know who you are."

"..."

 _What?!_

I can't believe my ears. Have my efforts in concealing my identity failed? No, that's definitely what's going on here. My cover's been blown, and now I've become the most vulnerable man in Elibe...

So knowing that, what do I do now? Do I run into the hills and pray that I live to see another day? Heck, even I know that's beyond the realm of possibility. Lyn will probably cut me down before I got away, and I'm in no state to defend myself. Unfortunately, I'd neglected to attach a new hand to my gauntlet, as doing so would have taken several hours...

I look down on the metallic mess of silver wires attached to my right wrist. Technically, I still had the capabilities to wield a sword since my weapon attached to my wrist as opposed to physically being held in my grasp. However, I didn't think to bring a sword with me, but I did have my red dagger. Not like I'd be able to do much with it as I'm right-handed.

Oh, why am I so stupid?!

Disturbing silence fills the air, and my eyes dash towards Lyn's waist, searching for a weapon. Her Mani Katti glitters under the white moonlight, leading to a concentrated chill to pulsate down my being.

Figuring I had nothing to lose, I raise my head and lock my eyes with her. It felt like she could cut me down at anytime, but I understood my words had a habit of getting me out of worser situations.

First, I tried the route of denial.

I said, "I don't know what you mean. I'm Kenan Vacia, respected tactician from Carazan. Who is...Samuel?"

I'm sweating bullets, but thankfully my mask covered most of my anxiety. My quivering left hand wasn't as easy to hide, however, so I pressed it against my back. Better safe than sorry...

Unfortunately, Lyn saw right through me. She said, "Don't play dumb with me, I can pick out your accent a mile away. Disguising it with that manufactured tongue of yours might work on the average man, but it won't work on me."

Drat. My faux midwestern accent isn't doing me any favors. Why did I have to run out of accent potions today? If I'd known that I would end up in this situation, I would've asked Niime to make me more for the journey. Ugh...everything's falling apart so quickly...

Scrambling for answers, I tried doubling down on my fake identity. I said, "My...accent comes from a specific borough in Carazan."

Lyn replied, "Really? Which burrough?"

 _!_

Having forgotten the name of the burrough, I fall silent again. My stress weighs down on my skull heavily, and my heart skips a beat. I've exhausted every possible method of escape, so now the only thing to do was to accept my impending fate...

I said, "I...you got me. I'm...who you say I am..."

I whisper a faint incantation, and the binding magic on my mask weakens. I feel like I was digging my own grave for doing this...but if I were to meet my end, I'd rather have it while letting the moon's light kiss my face.

Lyn appears unfazed by my revelation, but hints of emotion flare up across her body. Her hands tense up slightly, and I _swore_ to have seen them briefly nudge towards the sword on her wrist. Her breaths become tense and quick...but that's where the aggression ended. Lyn has no intention in bringing harm to me, and while confusion surrounds the intricacies of this new development, what she did next really took that down for a loop.

She...hugged me.

Her grasp was tight, but not so much as to inflict pain. In fact, the opposite was true. Her hands caressed by sore back like they were made of feathers, and her arms held me close in a manner reminding me of comfy pillows. The warmth of her body rubbing up against me melted the coldest corners of my heart...and I...didn't know what to do with myself. The sudden rush of emotions was too much to bear, so I handled it the only way I could.

I cried. Tears fell down the sides of my face and onto the ground like I'd were a leaky faucet. All the trauma, all the injuries, all the terrifying memories. It all came crashing down at once. I've become a slave to my emotions, a pitiful shadow of the hard, unwavering rock I used to be.

Used to be...

I remember the old me, a version of myself unaffected by the evils of war and loss. I remember the optimism bursting through my skin, the unfettered sharpness of my mind, and the mornings spent free from debilitating pain. My blood was yet to be tainted with the painkillers I take daily, and neither did the scars that cover nearly half my body...

I...yearn for those days. It's only been a year, but I hold those days spent with limited responsibility close to my heart. I felt...so free. Perhaps that's part of the reason I find myself coming back to Lyn, perhaps it's all a ploy to hang on to this fleeting sense of nostalgia. I should know better than this, I should be above it. Thankfully though, it appears Lyn felt the same way.

In my time attending to her as Jean, I grew to understand the unfortunate predicament Lyn found herself in. She's a plainswoman deep in the intricacies of noble life, a life she'd never preferred to take on to begin with. I can see it in her eyes...the loss that grips her psyche. The memories of the lush, green grass of Sacae call out to her, twisting her heart further and further with each passing day. I'm helpless to help her as her as a butler...but as her worthwhile friend? That may be a different story.

Other than Lani's safety, nothing means more to me than securing a future where Lyn would be happy back in the place she loved. Whether it involved me in that future didn't matter, as I doubted I had much time in this world. By my own estimates, I predicted I might last anywhere between two to three decades. I need to spend my final years of sanity making sure I do what I can for those that I love...

No matter what it takes.

Wiping a tear from my face, I bring Lyn closer to my body. I desired to determine what spurred Lyn to have a sudden and unexpected change of heart, so I collect my wits and string together a single question.

I asked, "You're...not going to attack me?"

Lyn lightly shakes her head and speaks with a familiar, serene tone. She said, "No, but we have much to talk about. I swear, I nearly had a heart attack when I found you concussed after that explosion."

I balked, "CONCUSSED?! You're meaning to tell me I got another concussion?"

That made another among many. I'm not sure if it even mattered. This single occurrence served as a mere drop in a much larger bucket.

Lyn replied, "I'm afraid so. It's surprising to me you had no idea. Neither one of the clerics told you?"

I shake my head silently. Perhaps I was too carefree when I angered Serra, or too shortsighted when I pulled Priscilla's heartstrings. They probably would've informed me of this travesty had I shut up and been a good patient...but hindsight is 20/20. Then again, I should've known this to begin with. What other result could have come from an explosion like that? It should've killed me.

I said, "N-No. That was partly my doing—anyway, that's besides the point. How are _you_ doing, Lyn?"

She replied, "Hmmm…before we do that...here..."

Lyn grabs my hand and beckons me to sit down next to her on the lush, green Lycian meadow. I oblige and let my tired eyes to droop a little in exhaustion. Despite the near week I'd spent in a coma, I still felt incredibly sleep-deprived from my past insomniac episodes. I pondered letting them shut for a brief moment of repose, but my guardian angel keeps me awake.

 **S:** Don't sleep. You don't have my permission to sleep until you sort this out...

Facing back towards my lone companion, I said, "Thank you. I must apologize, Lyn. My past actions have stained my soul with sin, and along with that, my psyche. I'm so tired...so very tired..."

I lean forward and lose consciousness. Several seconds pass, and when I come to, my head comfortably pressed against Lyn's lap. Between my mind numbing potion and overarching sense of exhaustion, I'm too dazed to notice the scandalous nature of this action. I simply turn over and meet the green orbs that belonged to my most trusted mistress.

Green...not glistening gold. So full of life...

I said, "This...this isn't right. What will...Lord Eliwood say of this?"

Lyn lifted her hand to her mouth and giggled. She said, "Oh my, so you've heard of that? That's just a front he and I used to keep those nosy suitors away..."

Lyn spends the next half hour explaining to me the true relationship between her and Eliwood. To my astonishment, what they had between them was not loving affection, but in fact strategic deception. So many suitors had approached the duo that they grew fed up with it, and together they schemed to rid themselves of these noble pests...

I asked, "But why would you do something like that? Surely your grandfather desires to keep the bloodline alive?"

Lyn replied, "True, but what's the fun in tying myself to a crummy noble? I wanted more time to find the person I wanted to be with...and Eliwood felt the same way too..."

Eliwood, much like Lyn, held more progressive views for marriage. They believed in marrying for love and disavowed the norm of arranged hitching. However, such views did not sit well with most Lycia's nobility. This led them to partake in deceitful courtship, fooling everybody down to their closest friends...and me.

 _Blast. Had I let Eliwood talk for a bit longer, I would have found this out when I was eavesdropping on him and Hector. To think I busted up my hand over this..._

"Hm? Sam, why is your face red all of a sudden?"

The thought makes my head look like a cherry, and I turn away. Lyn simply laughs and brushes my hair with her hand, playing with my black curls in a manner reminiscent of my mother...

I said, "I-It's nothing."

Rolling her eyes, she replied, "Suuuure. Tell me, when was the last time you've gotten a haircut? I haven't seen your head look this much like a jungle since last year."

 _Last year, it's been that long since we've spoken like this. That's all memory serves, anyway..._

I said, "I haven't tended to my hair for about three months. Back to the time when I still shared my days with my little Lani..."

I tell her about Lumina's daughter, Laniakea. I speak for hours about the mission Lumina entrusted me with, and the lengths I went about achieving her final wish. Lyn grimaces when I speak about the moment I severed my hand and let a stray tear fall down her face when she and I finally accepted one another. Finally, she holds my hand tightly when I spoke about the joy we shared peacefully in Höger.

She said, "Wow...she sounds like quite the princess. I can really feel the happiness in your voice when you speak about her. Do you dote on her much?"

I smiled, "Of course I do! What type of guardian would I be if I didn't shower her with unconditional love?!"

Lyn smiles back, though this time I feel like it was to convey something much more than individual happiness. Perhaps it had something to do with her own plans for the future, and the comfort in knowing that I worked well with kids. Then again, I can't ever tell what's going on in her mind. Lyn of the Lorca is an enigma with an independent mind, and that's one thing I just _loved_ about her.

Naturally, this led to a question I didn't have joy in answering. She asked, "So, when can I meet this little tike myself?"

"..."

My face turns stone cold, and my eyes shift away from Lyn's. We spend a moment in silence, and gradually Lyn infers what this meant.

She muttered, "I see. I'm sorry, Samuel."

Hearing Lyn's concerned remark, I feel like I owed her a proper explanation. But, instead something else comes out. Something much more heart-to-heart. I replied, "You know, I became her guardian because I wanted to give something that her good-for-nothing biological father is incapable of. Love, the means to survive, and protection. I failed to protect my dear girl...and it's all my fault. If only I'd taken us to a place more safe...if only I'd been more mindful of the people I surrounded us with."

I use my hands to cover my face, but I didn't cry as I'd already exhausted my tear glands. Instead, I close my eyes and think for a while with Lyn listening patiently...

 _Woe is_ me. I thought. _Why does misfortune follow me wherever I go? My only respite is the woman whose lap I'm resting on, but how long will that be the case? I'm not a perfect man...and I have a lot of baggage. My physical trauma being one of them..._

 _Ugh..._

I wince in silence as a flash of discomfort streaks across my forehead. It feels sharp, like a knife performing a lobotomy through my frontal lobe. Breaking into a cold sweat, I clench my fist to solicit some feeling from my fingers, but the effort fails. My entire body quickly takes on a veil of numbness, along with an accompanying migraine...

"Samuel?"

A haze permeates through every space in my eye, and my breathing becomes sparse. Dots of light dance around my cone of vision like fleas gnawing at some primordial plane. My hand shakes uncontrollably against the warm late summer air, but an external force keeps it still. At first, I don't understand where this could be coming from...but a serene voice puts me at ease...

It's a bit ironic. This was the same thing that happened to me when we first met. When she came across by my crumpled body in Sacae…

Lyn said, "Samuel...oh my, Samuel. This pain's been affecting you every day, hasn't it? The constant blows the head...most of them come from the time you spent leading the legion. It's not just that too...I saw it when you took on the persona of Jean. I can see the concealed pain in your eyes when you walk..."

Tears streak down the sides of her face, and I sense something splash onto mine. Although I couldn't feel its temperature, I understood the pain and regret behind it. Her grasp on me grew tighter, and her heart beats against mine as she hugged my near-comatose body.

She said, "Sam...this is all my fault. If only you'd never been involved with me, none of this would have ever happened. I'm such a fool...I can't forgive myself for how I treated you in the past. I should've helped you just as you helped me, but I left you out to die in the winter plain. Sam...please forgive me..."

My head was too much of a mush for me to take much meaning from this. Even then, my subconscious instincts push me to provide a reassuring reply.

"Lyn...you have it all wrong. This is my fault. If only...I were more careful. If only...I were less weak."

Lyn said, "No...you have it all wrong. What you went through isn't normal. If I'd been a better companion for you, I would have stuck it with you all the way. Had I supported you...perhaps you never would have succumbed to the demon's honeyed words. We would have spent all this time together in Castle Caelin, and your dear Laniakea safe and sound."

"Lyn...I..."

"Shhhh...I know."

Lyn raises her finger to my lip, and I fall silent. The world felt like it was going round and round...but I still focused my attention on the love of my life. The egmatic Lyn of the Lorca. Esteemed hunter, lover of endless seas of grass, and ultimately, one of the few reasons I still derived from meaning from my existence.

I wanted to open my mouth and say the words I'd been keeping dear to my heart for months. But...I'd reached the limits of my torn body. Instead, Lyn tucks me back on her lap and shifts my head so I'm looking back on the stars. Stars I'd grown fond of since that faithful day with Lumina. Passing into unconsciousness, I think about the plethora of questions still unanswered, but Lyn reaffirms the one thing I feared we lost.

She said, "Sam...I see life in a new way now. My heart is set. I don't know how I can reconcile the ways of my culture with our past, but I know we can do it if we try. Just rest your eyes now. Samuel...I..."

"I love you. I lost you once, but I swear I won't lose you again..."

* * *

 **A/N: This will be my last chapter written in 1st Person. Very soon Samuel will become too much of a unreliable narrator, so I have to write the story from the perspective of other characters. Don't worry though, he and Lyn will continue to contain most of the focus.**


	63. The Humble Lady of Caelin

**Chapter 58: The Humble Lady of Caelin**

 **By SodiumChlouride12, derived from Fire Emblem, owned by Nintendo.**

 **A/N: Sorry about the late post! I was busy with an exam I took online.**

* * *

 _July 1st, 982._

 _Today is my first day writing in this account, and may I say it's quite the welcome relief in my troubled life. Everything's so hectic in my day-to-day, so I take great solace in being able to sit down and write my thoughts. Speaking of which, perhaps I should give you a name. What moniker should I assign to you? I'm baffled just thinking about it..._

 _Hmm..._

 _I think I'll name you Cecil. Nice to meet you! My name is Lyn! I think my last name is either Caelin or Lorca. I'm not exactly sure..._

 _Anyway, much has happened over the past few weeks. Before I can start on that, I should probably tell you about everything that has happened. It'll take some time, so you'd better get yourself comfortable! Then again, I doubt you have anything else to do. You are just a journal..._

 _..._

 _So, I hope I still have your attention. Thankfully, all of my friends are safe and sound! Sain, Kent, Florina, and Wil. We escaped by the skin of our teeth, but I don't think it we'd be here if it weren't for the valiant efforts of my grandfather and the Caelic army. Fortunately, Eliwood's army was nearby to help us..._

 _Oh! I'm sorry, I never told you about that. Yes, despite my insistence, my grandfather left himself behind with the last of the army so we'd have enough time to escape. I...fear for his life. The Lausian army were fierce and unrelenting during their short siege with us. I don't know what are Lord Darin's intentions, but I don't feel this well end well for my grandfather. He's...he's the only family I have left. We may come from differing cultures, but I care for him tremendously. I pray that I'll be able to see him again soon, lest my heart break again._

 _Speaking of broken body parts, I spoke to Matthew about Samuel's...condition. Given his mild seizure last night, I wondered if he could give me a full rundown on Sam's medical history. Although he seemed sympathetic to my plight, he didn't have the documents on his person. I convinced him to ask his employer if they can investigate the subject matter, but the results of which won't come for at least a month. Until then, I need to keep a close eye on this reckless tactician._ _His hair has since taken a deathly shade of white, and though h_ _e fancies himself a warrior, he fails to realize he's made of glass._

 _Oh Cecil, I'm so worried. About everything. I fear for my grandfather's life, the wellbeing of the kingdom, the safety of my friends, and the future of my dear Samuel. There are many obstacles between me and the future I desire...but I'll stay steadfast. I'll make sure to keep telling you more about what's to come._

 _Hehehe…Samuel lies sleeping here next to me. He's actually quite adorable here, especially under dawn's light. I think I'll go back to sleep too..._

 _Until next time!_

 _With Love, Lyn._

* * *

 **Morning...**

It's a bright, late summer morning in the Land of Caelin. Clouds brush the sky with spotted blankets of white, and birds serenely glide through the sky. Wind peacefully breezes through the beautiful landscape, carrassing plain and forest alike with its cool embrace. A single green leaf dances through the air, jumping like a delicate ballerina until it lands on an idle notebook sitting beside an even idler sleeping couple.

They slept on the grass like peas in a pod. One held the other close to her chest, his white hair intertwined with her green. They gave light breathes in equal tempo, though neither expressed any sense of consciousness. Nearby, a red knight looks over them with a hint of jealousy in his eyes, but regardless, all he does is politely cough into his hand.

Kent said, "Ahem. Good morning."

"..."

The pair continue in their slumber, oblivious to their comrade's presence. Kent briefly shifts his gaze towards the unmasked Samuel, his face scarred from the explosion of his own creation. Other than that, he also carried a slight blemish from that old wound Rath gave him last year, and the sight brings back memories. Well...that's what would've happened if the two were still on class terms. Kent _hated_ Samuel, mostly because of his role in felling dozens of his friends.

His blood briefly boils with anger, but then subsides when he remembers his duty. Still, one could never be too careful when dealing with these sort of men, and thus he kept his short dagger handy, albeit discreetly. Keeping his right hand free, he grabs the wanted tactician from his collar and shook him.

He said, "Hey! What is the meaning of this?!"

The volume of his voice compells both the fugitive and his liege awake. The former briefly looks around, more confused than a color-blind person looking at a stoplight for the first time, but it doesn't take long for him to recover his bearings...

Samuel said, "K-Kent? What's going on — oh no. My mask's off, isn't it?"

Kent stares him down and tightens his grip. He found it odd that he didn't attempt to escape his grasp, but questions were best left when the accused was already behind bars.

He said, "Your luck's run out. I don't know what you were doing with the princess, but you will be under our custody from now on. You'll answer to the crimes you've committed. I hope you find the executioner n—"

Suddenly, a voice shocks him out of his monologue. It came from Lyn, her posture hunched over from morning tiredness. She said, "Kent. Please let him down this instant."

Kent nearly gasps under his breath, but doesn't drop the smaller man. Instead, he questions his liege on the motives behind her order, a direct violation of the Knight's Code he'd sworn to many years ago.

 _I will not question the orders of my liege. The crown is the nation, and to defy it is abject to treason._

He asked, "But why? He's a wanted murderer and a criminal. Please, allow me to lock him up so he may answer to his crimes."

Lyn shakes her head and rises from her position to grab onto Samuel's hands. She lightly tugs against his white robe and as expected she doesn't find any resistance. Kent lets go and Samuel's feet meet with the ground for the first time this morning.

Holding his hand over his heart, Samuel backs away cautiously. Conversely, Lyn puts herself between the two men, wary of any further confrontation between the two.

She said, "Kent. I will need you to forget you ever saw this."

Kent grips the blade on his waist tightly, and the tension in the air thickens. He briefly contemplates his next move in silence, though both Kent and Lyn understood what this was to be. Given his role as a knight, there was only one thing _to_ do.

Kent sighs and turns his back on both liege and fugitive. He said, "Very well, your wish is my command. I implore you two to return to the camp immediately as we are deliberating on the war plan. It is vital that both of you are present."

He maintained silence as he walked away. Meanwhile, Lyn and Samuel look on with striking shock in what just occurred, though the latter felt an ever increasing sense of unease with his bare face. He frantically searches the area for his mask...

He said, "Where is it? My mask — where is it? By Elimine — I am so screwed..."

"Oh!"

He finds its white ceramic body protruding from the dirt, the way it got there being unknown. Even so, Samuel his shrugged his shoulders and pulls it out of the ground content with having it under his possession again. Lyn says nothing as he reattached it to his face.

He said, "Sorry, I just feel so anxious when I don't on my face in broad daylight. I feel so naked without it..."

He glances over at Lyn, who somberly watched her beloved nearby. Solemn thoughts fills her mind, which slowly but surely enveloped her heart. Samuel notices this and sought to put her mind at ease any way he could.

He said, "Lyn...are you all right? I...Kent...he..."

At one point in the distance past, Samuel used to possess a witty and precise tongue. This came from a lifetime having to come up to blows with his politically minded twin brother, who laid down a barrage of rhetoric any time the two sat down for evening dinner. However, months of devastating brain injuries had reduced him to a mildly more bumbling version of his former self. Thinking about it brought sadness to Lyn's heart, hence the somber look about her eyes.

In her perspective, Lyn held partial responsibility for making him this way. Had Samuel never met her or if he'd rejected the promise they'd made over a year before, he'd be living a much safer life away from the violent squabbles of nobility. Samuel would be much happier in that life, a life far away from the one Lyn's leading.

Clearing her throat, she elected to downplay the issue. She said, "Pay his earlier words no mind. He doesn't understand the story of you or Azazel, and I…"

"…"

Lyn goes silent and searches her mind for words. She couldn't figure out what to say to Samuel. In truth, a part of her felt just as angry as the man who lifted Sam up from his collar, and it was difficult for her to speak from a position of empathy. This originated from the conflict based from her culture, which didn't approve of this behavior towards enemies as stated in the Laws of Sacae…

The Laws of Sacae. They're a collection of strict rules that every Sacaen man and women follow. Most are rather trivial and meant for day-to-day life, like tenet thirteen:

 _Horses will be allowed to graze the land as they see fit, just as the spirits intended._

However, other laws pertain to much more serious subject matter. This includes several pertaining to war, one of which specifically applies to Lyn and Samuel's situation.

 _Tribesman lost in battle must be avenged with their equivalent in blood. Should a tribe be wiped out, the survivors must fight to exact revenge. Even if it comes down to the last man._

This is the Avenger's Law, its namesake derived from all the vengeful souls that would commit guerrilla attacks against the like of the Kutolah, Djute, Ostrogs, and the Lorca themselves. This made larger tribes reluctant to annihilate and assimilate smaller tribes, as the hassle immediately following the war's end would be more draining and disruptive than the war itself. This applied to Lyn and Samuel in several ways, though only one took great importance.

In the eyes of Sacaen Law, Samuel was a combatant working with an enemy army during the Lorcan Massacre. This meant people like Lyn had to avenge the deaths of her kin to equivalence, with the casualties of her people numbering in the hundreds. Since Samuel had eliminated the Taliver Bandits months before, that meant only one person of the enemy remained. That person being the white-haired tactician himself.

The Law bounds Lyn to kill Samuel, regardless of who did the killing or her personal objections. If she were to break this obligation, that would mean ostracization by every Sacaen on the planet, along with exile from her beloved plains. This left Lyn in quite the bind, as she now had to choose between her beloved or her homeland…

But she already promised to throw her lot with Samuel. He had done much for her, going as far to put himself both physically and psychologically on the line to achieve her past goals. His selflessness struck a chord inside the young nomad's heart, and perhaps this was the part of the reason she was so stricken by him. She must commit to the promise she made last night, even it means making some difficult decisions.

Clearing her throat, her green eyes meet with his pair of lighter green and brown. They share a moment of repose, before Lyn finally breaks the silence.

Apologizing for her earlier misstep, she said, "My apologies. I…hesitated a bit there. Mmph, before we go…can I ask a personal favor from you?"

Samuel nods, "Of course. Anything."

Lyn said, "You must refrain from fighting in this next battle. I know you're still recovering from that major concussion several days back, and I want you to steer clear from injury for several more days."

Samuel balked, "What? No! The army needs me! You remember the last time we had a battle without an observing tactician!"

Lyn thinks back on the fate of General Wallace, and ponders about a similar thing happening to someone held dear, like her best friend Florina. She couldn't even bear to think about how she'd fare if an archer shot her out of the sky because of some tactical error, but she couldn't allow herself to risk Samuel's wellbeing again. Situations like these require compromise…

She reaches over and grabs Samuel's hand, momentarily stunning him with fluster. Seeing an opportunity, she made her opinion known.

She said, "But what would we be if we were to lose you? Please, take a moment to consider your long-term health. I don't — we'd be in for a disaster if the symptoms of your physical trauma worsened. Relegate yourself to the reserve and allow mobile riders like Florina to deliver your orders."

Samuel considers her proposition. This was a similar proposition agreed to earlier during the battle to protect the trader Merlinus, though with more restrictive elements to it. He'll be stuck to the reserve as opposed to riding with a bodyguard, and although he may not agree with this arrangement, Samuel didn't feel like he could say no to Lyn's concerns. He nods his head in agreement, and all was well.

Lyn said, "Excellent, so I think that should be everything. Shall we make our way back to camp?"

Again, Lyn's just delaying the inevitable conversation she'd have to share with Samuel, but at this point she didn't have the willingness to have it. Neither did Samuel, and both were just content to push it back further at a more amicably time. Perhaps a period where the threat of the Lausian army didn't loom over their heads.

So, both walked back to camp in stride. They carried a certain optimism for the future, but also a weariness to what it may entail. Only time will tell.

* * *

 **Later…**

After about an hour of making it back to camp and scrapping together an impromptu lunch consisting of jerky coupled with hardtack, Lyn and Samuel found themselves in the army's command center. The command center is a large circular tent at the center of the army's defense perimeter, being a makeshift structure that emphasized practicality over comfortability. This meant that no sort of air conditioning existed within the canvas walls, forming an isolating cover that kept heat in. The entire place felt like a giant pouch of cotton trapped inside a pillow cover, hence why army affectionately named this place the "Oven".

Entering through the tent's large frontal flap, a wave of heat surges through them both. Although the temperature outside felt like a breezy seventy degrees Farenheit (21C), the inside scorched at about ninety degrees Farenheit (32C). Looking around, Samuel's gaze met with those of his two greatest critiques, those being Kent and Marcus. They stared him down in silent contempt, but bowed their heads lightly in respect to the princess at his side. Also in attendance were the two other lordlings, Oswain, and Matthew, who all nodded to acknowledge their presence.

Laying down some paperwork on a large table, Marcus invites the two to sit down with Eliwood and Hector. The two oblige and take a seat at opposite sides of one another, almost as if maintaining distance could hide the controversial slumber they shared earlier that day. Kent keeps his peace, though both liege and tactician wondered if he'd wagged his tongue…

 _He won't say anything._ Lyn thought. _His oath will keep him silent._

Meanwhile, Samuel is anything but optimistic.

 _I am so screwed._

Samuel does his best to avoid making eye contact with Kent and Marcus, though an oblivious Lyn rummages on her seat to make herself more comfortable. The contrast between the two is striking; for Samuel the tense room felt like an area harboring enemies, while for Lyn the opposite was true. Everybody here had an amicable relationship with her, including the man leading this meeting, Eliwood.

Eliwood cleared his throat and scanned the surrounding room. Figurines representing troops laid sprawled over an underlying map, their disjointed limbs contorted like toys.

He said, "Good morning, everyone. I hope you're all doing well. As you may know, we will be fighting the Lausian army this afternoon. We'll be discussing the battle plan, and although for most of you this is old news, I'm aware we've an old friend assisting us from beyond the grave. Samuel…it's nice to have you back."

Everyone's eyes drift towards Samuel, and the tall, tanned man shrinks behind his seat. Eliwood had intended the gesture as a goodwill display of acceptance, but it instead served as an unwanted invitation of attention. Samuel meekly eyes both Lyn and Eliwood for a brisk change of the subject, but quickly realizes he'd have to answer to the spotlight, whether he wanted to or not.

Standing up, he said, "I…thank you, Eliwood. Your kind w—"

"That's Lord Eliwood to you."

Samuel gulped as Marcus' words reach his ears. A brief flirtation with anger grips his heart, and for a second his timidness nearly breaks. However, this episode proved to be just that, a flirtation. Paralysis rules his body, and weakness reigns supreme…

"…"

Time stands still, and Lyn understood she had to work fast. She sends a glance of reassurance towards her anxious beloved, and he responds by retrieving a flask and downing its mysterious liquid down his throat. Recouping his bearings, he responds just in time to arouse any suspicion.

He said, "My apologies, Lord Eliwood. A misstep at my part."

Eliwood shook his head, "None taken here. Allow me to apologize for my subject's rudeness. You may refer to me as Eliwood if you wish."

An expression of astonishment washes over Marcus' face. Baffled, he said, "But Lord Eliwood! You cannot allow a simple commoner to refer to you so casually!"

Eliwood disagreed, "I don't wish to point out your hypocrisy, Marcus. You had little issue with his nomenclature before."

Marcus opens his mouth, but held his tongue. This unexpected authoritative side of Eliwood silenced the senior knight, and Samuel breathes a sigh of relief. Eliwood had wiped most of the heat from his person, inadvertently sending a message towards any other potential aggressors. That aggressor being Kent.

Lyn leans back on her seat, slightly stressed. She didn't expect this much tension so quickly, and hadn't thought Samuel may have some critics outside of the enemy. They should be fighting them, she reasoned. Not themselves.

Easing these rough seas is easier said than done. Tempers were already short, and coupling that with the horrible stuffiness of the venue, this formed the perfect cocktail for hostility. Even so, that didn't mean she wasn't going to try.

Breaking the silence, she said, "I think she should try to clear the air…"

Rolling his eyes, Hector scoffed, "Clear the air? How are we going to do that? Man, can we just get this meeting over with?! I want to break some skulls!"

Now sufficiently calmed from his potion, Samuel said, "We can't just go in there swords swingin'! I don't like your tone towards the princess either, Hector. I think you should apologize."

Upon hearing his liege's name, Oswin too dipped his hat into the ring. He said, "I will not tolerate ill will towards Lord Hector! I think you sh—"

 _!_

"HWUAAAAAAGH!"

Suddenly, Lyn erupts from her seat. She draws her sword and raises it above her head, exposing it for all to see. Everyone looks on with sheer terror in their eyes, especially so for a nearby tactician with white hair.

Samuel exclaimed, "By the Creator! Lyndis, what do you think you're doing?!"

"HWUAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!"

She swipes her sword directly at the ceiling, cutting a deep tear through the thick canvas. A (relatively) cool, brisk breeze rushes in through the opening, extinguishing every hothead from within the "Oven". Merlinus' scream echoes through the camp as the tent was one of his prized possessions.

He exclaimed, "NOOOOO! MY TENT! WHY?!"

Oblivious to that merchantman's pleas, Lyn sheathes her sword and sighs. She looks back at the others, and then at Samuel. Sufficiently pleased with herself, she says the few words that finally puts the meeting into session.

"Now that's out of the way, let's get this over with...shall we?"

* * *

 **Noon...**

Samuel scruffs up his hair as he anxiously observes the army silently pack up the last remnants of the camp. The sun hangs high in the sky, and there wasn't a single cloud visible for miles. The surrounding forest dances and weaves with the wind, a peaceful contrast to the battle rapidly approaching.

 _On Sothis' good name._ He thought. _I told them I'm going to operate from the reserves, but why do I feel this unending pit in my gut?_

Samuel silently thinks about the future, taking the time to further dwell on impromptu strategies should the need arise. He can't help but think some disaster looms over the horizon and refused to be content with the current state of things. The glistening gold eyes of his beloved still strikes at him from a distance, as with the unmarked grave of his best friend. Regrettably, he'd been refraining from speaking to him because of the trauma lingering in his mind. He wants to meet up with that introverted mage again, going as far to create some minor drama with him through Priscilla. But...so far every attempt to reach out has failed. Failure mostly occupies his mind nowadays...

 _!_

"Lieutenant Kenan, can I speak to you?"

As if on cue, Erk appears from out of nowhere. Well, not really. In reality, he'd just come from eating breakfast, and wanted someone to talk to while he waited for the call to arms. [The call to arms is a bugle call that brought everyone into formation. Lowen is the bugler].

Unexpected but wanted, Samuel lightly nods his head. It's the best gesture he could muster at the moment, but Erk accepts it nonetheless.

Erk said, "Excellent! Now, I've been looking at you for some time. You have a close resemblance to someone I know. Tell me, what color hair do you have underneath that hood?"

"Uhh..."

Samuel bites his lip. Someway, somehow Erk got a tip off about his true identity. Perhaps somebody in the army was spreading around conspiracy theories, or this was just something Erk came to on his own. All told, Sam really _really_ hoped it was the latter.

Looking around, Samuel realizes nobody was within an earshot. Figuring he had nothing to lose at this point by telling Erk the truth, he came clean...

He said, "Your suspicions are founded. My true identity is Samuel Castillo, it's a pleasure to finally meet with you, friend."

* * *

 **Later...**

Lyn tightens her grip on her blade as she parries the sword of a Lausian knight. Sparks fly as the two pieces of metal meet at high velocity, burning the nomadic warrior's skin lightly. Although this served as a minor inconvenience, she understood the alternative was much worse.

All around her, friend and foe alike clashed in a battle of epic proportions. Marcus, Lowen, Kent, and Sain rode through the wooded prairie clashing their lances with the enemy calvary, their mouths expelling battle cries to motivate their own. Axes raised high, Dorcas and Bartre muscled through the enemy in tandem. A chaotic jungle of incantations filled the air as well, two-thirds of which coming from the clerics Priscilla and Serra. His eyes glowing purple, Erk stands alone bringing down hellfire on the Lausian army.

Also contributing were Wil, Rebecca, and Florina. The former two hugged the brush tightly, picking away at any soldier that transgressed too far into their range. Florina gracefully weaved through the sky like a free bird, taking on the role of reconnaissance and messenger for the tactician harbored in the back line…

"I will serve Lord Darin honorably!"

The knight comes at her again, this time packing more speed. This meant that parrying his attack again won't come as easily, and thus Lyn dug her heels into the earth. She'll dodge this time around.

Contorting her body, she leaps into the air just as the knight's lance skewered the air she previously inhabited. Lyn gazes down on her enemy and opens her eyes wide when she notices that the man had stopped dead in his tracks. The soldier proved a fool. He thought she'd disappeared.

 _Now's my chance!_

She contorts her body again, this time turning her hips so she spun around like a top. She takes her blade and tears through the only part of the knight that didn't contain any armor…

"Arrrrgh!"

Her Mani Katti lobs the enemy's head off in one fell swoop, and it hits the ground in a ghastly display of violence. Lyn turns her head to avoid the sudden gush of blood spewing from his neck like a geyser, but cannot avoid most of the liquid splashing her shirt. The red crimson paints her outfit a distasteful shade of brown. Unused to this brutality, Lyn nearly gags.

 _Ugh, so is the horrors of war._

Lyn, like everyone else in the army, did not like war. She viewed it as a tragedy that harmed combatants and non-combatants alike, but she understood its unavoidable nature. Some people in this antiquated world of magic and chivalry did not have the word "peace" in their dictionary, meaning that sometimes people like Lyn had to speak to them in the only way they'd understand. Through blood and iron.

Landing back on the ground with her own two feet, she thinks on the man behind it all. Lord Darin. She didn't understand why a man like him would desire to attack Caelin, but imperialism itself rarely required a meaningful casus belil. Back in Sacae, wars only occurred when the larger nomadic tribes transgressed on each other's lands, making them inherently defensive (usually). However, in Lyn's eyes Darin simply wanted to acquire power for power's sake.

What an inherently short-sighted and heartless man.

If only she knew. Only a few souls in the army were aware of the grand conspiracy involving Nergal, though nobody could piece together the entire story. People like Matthew and Samuel were only aware of the sorcerer's influence over nation states, but neither could assume his dubious intentions. Only time and further investigation will reveal what's going on in that villain's mind.

But such thoughts raise the question on why Matthew and Samuel have neglected to tell the army's leadership about Nergal. The answer is simple, currently there was no reason to. To suggest some abstract person was pulling the strings from behind a curtain seemed ludicrous to the average man, and in the case of Samuel, doing so might instill some suspicion of insanity. As for Matthew, Uther swore him to secrecy so that Hector wouldn't bring trouble to a delicate home situation. Having one of the more hotheaded lords searching the countryside for the dark sorcerer might make Lycia seem weak to foreign entities, which must be avoided when discussing nations like Bern.

Bern is a militaristic nation directly east of Lycia. They boast the largest military in the world, a result of the countless wars waged by generations of kings to unify the nation from its initial fragmented state. They employ an opportunistic form of imperialism that acted on the slightest hint of weakness shown by their neighbors, and there were a few instances in history where Lycia fell victim to Bern's might. Although Bern hasn't attacked Lycia for over 200 years, Lycia's leaders forever feel mindful of their much larger neighbor.

"M'lady. Are you all right?"

Kent appears from a place outside of Lyn's initial cone of vision, his armor bent up from the recent scrimmaging with opposing knights. He takes one good look at Lyn's clothing before extracting a small cloth from his pocket…

He said, "Here, take my handkerchief. I think you need it more than me."

Appreciative of her knight's attention, she accepts his offer. She slowly wipes her face of all blood and sweat, cleaning it to a state acceptable to her. Both share smiles when Lyn realizes that the cloth no longer held any practical use.

Lyn said, "Oh, I'm sorry! I hope you don't mind."

Kent shook his head, "It doesn't mind me. I live to serve you, Lyndis."

The two take a moment to take in the surrounding air, a disheveled mess of iron, blood, equine, and mana. It smelled terrible to anybody but the most hardened of veterans, and neither Lyn nor Kent could wear that mantle. Lyn scrambles to find words to escape her mouth, but eventually something comes to her.

She said, "Kent, I noticed that you came here very quickly. Why is that?"

Kent replied, "I...saw you were in some trouble. I left as soon as I could."

Lyn frowns upon hearing those words. Something didn't sit right with her.

She said, "But I'm fine. Did you doubt my abilities?"

Slightly flustered, Kent shakes his head. He said, "Of course not! You know me better than that. It's just that...you never know what can happen on the battlefield. Take good care of yourself, Lady Lyndis. I will protect you, as it is my duty."

"Kent..."

Kent delivers a gentleman's bow. Lyn ponders about another thing that's been concerning her. It came regarding the other important man in her life. Although talking about this would've been preferable at any other time, Lyn desired to clear this issue as soon as possible, otherwise tempers may flare over at some inopportune time on the battlefield.

She said, "Kent, I understand that you have an issue with our tactician..."

Kent replied frankly, "You know of my quarrel with him. I do not approve of his continued presence in this army. If you require protection in any form, I can provide it in excess. I am a much stronger soldier than he can ever be."

"Kent!"

Lyn takes a step back, her mind taken aback by her knight's forwardness. She stands there unsure of what to say.

Eventually, she said, "Kent...I...I don't require protection like that. Tell me, the fate of your comrades aside, is there some other reason you don't like Samuel?"

"..."

"I have spoken."

Kent bows his head and vacates himself of Lyn's presence. He does so in silence, rejoining his nearby knights in scrimmaging the enemy calvary. Lyn looks on with her mind spinning, unsure of what to do about her knight's opinion. His opinion about Samuel...and her...

Closing her eyes, she tries to scrub away the sounds of war around her. First, she thinks about her grandfather waiting inside Castle Caelin, silently praying for his safety. Then, he thinks about her beloved Samuel, who was with the reserves several miles away...

 _Thank goodness you're safe._ She thought. _At the very least, your safety isn't something I will have to worry about._

She takes her blade and silently observes the sun's rays glisten off the sacred metal's edge. The distant reflection of Castle Caelin shined into her eyes, along with a speckle of green armor adorned by the enemy's commander. The men say his name is Bauker, one of the most trusted lieutenants to Lord Darin himself. The time will soon come when one of the army's champions will have to cross swords with him. Perhaps Lyn might have to fill this role herself…

!

She notices an archer hiding in the nearby brush; her gaze fixated on the skies. This archer desired to shoot down her close friend, Florina. Brandishing her sword again, she charges alone into the dense vegetation, determined to bring an end to this opportunistic foe…

* * *

Nearby…

Florina and Samuel observe the battlefield high in the sky. Samuel reads the enemy's movements closely, his eyes glued onto his pair of rusted binoculars. Meanwhile, Florina anxiously scans the air for any sign of arrows or magic. Both squirm in their seats against the unsteady flaps of Huey's wings, the animal sharing the weariness of his owner...

Florina said, "L-Lieutenant! Are you done yet? I r-really want to get out of the air…"

Keeping his eyes fixated on the enemy, he shakes his head. He said, "Not yet. Give me a few more minutes and I think I can figure these guys out. Right now they're showing a light calvary look with an emphasis on light infantry. Assuming no further reinforcements, we can— oh Florina, please guide Huey several yards west."

Slightly baffled by his request, Florina obliges and pulls her steed back. Huey flies several yards away from the battlefield, and several moments later an arrow whizzes through the air previously occupied by them. The sight spooks beast and man alike.

Florina shrieked, "EEEEEK! ARCHER! WE HAVE TO LEAVE!"

Maintaining his composure, Samuel disagreed, "You shouldn't worry. The arrow you just dodged came from an archer who pushed her luck. I can't see who exactly took her head off, but I think it was either Guy or Lyn."

Florina replied, "Guy? I thought he's with the reserve near Merlinus' tent?"

Florina's right. The reserve comprised of three men, Guy, Oswin, and Samuel. However, with Guy suffering through a stomach bug and Samuel midway through recovering from a major concussion, Oswin served as the only "real" bodyguard defending the army's supply lines, though both Samuel and Guy could assist should the situation require it...

Samuel said, "Oh yeah. Well, I suppose that explains that then..."

"..."

"Okay, we can go back now."

 **...**

They returned to the safety of the back line, and Samuel sent Florina away to deliver some messages to various parts of the army. Most of them spoke about certain maneuvers ideal for the situations they were in, but others came with a message of caution. It was something minor, but Samuel felt it necessary to bring it up...

 _The enemy's troop numbers are fighting for time. Is it possible reinforcements are on the way?_

In hindsight, maybe Samuel just wrote that because he wanted to feel important from this metaphoric Fortress of Solitude. Watching everyone fight from a distance made him feel useless, even depressed. He wanted to contribute more to the cause of his friends and allies, and especially so towards protecting Lady Lyn. He wanted to be right there with her, fighting on the front lines, just like they used to in the good old days...

Sitting inside Merlinus' tent, he observes the old merchant peacefully buff his wares with a rag. The man reminds him of an old teacher who used to teach him English, but his name eludes him.

Taking his watch out, he waits patiently as the hour hand reaches the number three...and then rummages through his pocket to receive a small flask. The flask of the numbing potion.

The numbing potion is a potion that helped keep Samuel sane, and he had to take it in some form at least three times a day, once in the morning, afternoon, and night. The potion itself actually comprised of smaller, concentrated droplets that fed into a larger volume of liquid. Samuel could put these droplets into anything he saw fit, whether it be water, whiskey, or his favorite, green tea. Erk had mailed him a two years' supply of the potion back in Illia along with instructions, and although Samuel doesn't understand its manufacture, he trusted his friend well enough to not miss a single application of the potion. The sole exception nearly came this morning, when amid scrutiny he slyly took the potion to stave away his anxieties. Samuel didn't wish to toy with the door of insanity again, lest that experience in the initial timeline come to bear again...

A knot builds up around Samuel's gut. He didn't like thinking about that old timeline. He didn't like remembering about Lyn's golden eyes, or the frightening visit with death. Painful memories like those already kept him up at night, so why should he bother with them during the day? If he's lucky, perhaps one day he'll forget about it like he did with his mother's name...

 _Blast._ Samuel thought. _I really did forget her name..._

Out of all the people he knew of in his old life, Samuel's mother was the only of which whose name he remembered. He recalled telling it to someone in the previous timeline, but unfortunately he neglected to do so in this one. It's a shame really, they were especially close, though not as much as he and his twin brother...

His twin brother was everything Samuel wasn't. Charming, outgoing, and extroverted. Samuel only had a meaningful friend group in high school because of his brother's efforts to integrate him into his life, and admittingly, he helped him out a lot throughout the years, even in college. Samuel sometimes wonders how his brother would have reacted if he had been transported to Elibe instead of him, but a part of him thinks he wouldn't have acted much differently. The two shared much in common, genes and all.

Eliwood reminds him of his twin brother. Whether it be his quick wit, polite mannerisms, or his solid moral compass...the relation is uncanny to him. Maybe that's why Samuel viewed Eliwood like a brother, though he doubted Eliwood felt the same way about him.

If only Samuel weren't so insecure about himself. In the past, he'd kept his anxiety down to a minimum, meaning Samuel only had to work through his natural introversion to connect with his peers. However, now things have changed. Samuel was gradually becoming a nervous wreck, with the potion Erk had given him the only thing slowing the progress down. Maybe he can gain something by asking Erk to make some alterations to his potion. Maybe...

 _!_

Suddenly, Guy comes bursting through the tent's entrance. His red head resembles a cherry, though Samuel isn't sure if it's from running or his sickness. Unfortunately, the former is true.

He exclaimed, "Samuel! Knights! Four of them! We need your help!"

Samuel's suspicions were correct. Reinforcements did come to assist the enemy in foiling their efforts. However, their numbers were far too few to make much of a difference in the fighting, and could be dealt with easily with the reserves alone. Lyn likely will not appreciate Samuel's participation in this endeavor, but then again she doesn't have to know...

Samuel smiles as he stands up from his seat and retrieved his blade. Merlinus looks on with cautious curiosity, but doesn't stop his earlier task. Samuel responds by saying some words to rile up the spirits of his comrade.

He said, "Heh. Very well then. Let's bring him hell, shall we?"

* * *

 **A/N: Wow, I really missed the opportunity to name that false doctor "Dr. Death." Damnit!**


	64. Fated Encounter

**Chapter 59: Fated Encounter**

 **By SodiumChlouride12, derived from Fire Emblem, owned by Nintendo**

 **A/N: Forgive me, this is probably one of the worse chapters I've written in a while. Either that, or that's just how I perceived it when I was editing this late last night. I think what went wrong is that I went on too many tangents. I tend to do better when I have somewhere around 4-7 scenes in a chapter. My imagery's been lacking lately too. On the bright side, I feel a lot better about next week's chapter.**

 **In other news, I'm thinking about taking a Creative Writing course this summer.**

 **N: The battle for Castle Caelin continues. Who will emerge victorious?**

* * *

 _(The following is a report sent to Lord Uther from a spy working within the Black Fang)_

 _Dear Lord Culper,_

 _I am fortunate to say that my infiltration of the Black Fang organization is a resounding success. These people have accepted me as among their own, and I've gone as far to hold a minor position. I'm now a trusted assassin answering to Nergal's lackey, Ephidel._

 _You've already received my report regarding him, so I think it's best that I speak about other persons of interest. This includes Brendan Reed, the founder and leader of the Black Fang._

 _Brendan Reed was born about forty years ago in a village noted for being one of the most impoverished in Bern. After toiling away there until his teens, he joined a mercenary guild with his childhood friend, a man named Jan Sycan. The two spent several years there building up expertise in the trade until Brendan founded the Black Fang after receiving enough respect from his peers..._

 _The Black Fang initially was a well-meaning organization that would rid communities of their corrupt leaders at minimal or no cost to the exploited. This went on for several years, and the organization gained more members as more people sympathized with their movement. At this point, we began to keep tabs on them as a potential terrorist organization like similar populist movements in Carazan and the Western Isles, but we didn't pay them much mind since they kept most of their operations within Bern. However, this all changed when Brendan's first wife Charlotte died, and he remarried several years after the fact..._

 _The new wife was a woman named Sonia, who took on an influential role in the Fang. The Fang gradually changed in ways contrary to their beliefs, and nowadays they're willing to kill anyone for coin. Certain members within the Fang have dissented when faced with this new reality, but so far the Fang continues to rally behind their leader, Brendan Reed. It is my belief that Sonia is behind these new changes, and I also think she has something to do with this mysterious Ephidel figure._

 _To answer your earlier question, I'm not sure if Nergal is behind all this. I need more information before I can make any definitive conclusions. Please be patient, Lord Culper. I will get to the bottom of this._

 _From, Red Rose._

* * *

Lord Darin frowns as he observes the battlefield high above at the keep of Castle Caelin. His face wrinkles with regret of having come here, his resolve beaten beyond comfort. He watches in silent disbelief as his troops scurry back into the safety of his captive fortress, and his thoughts scramble in terror.

 _No...this can't be happening. Surely, Lieutenant Bauker will deal with the enemy..._

"Ack!"

Darin pressed his hand against the thick window in front of him and cuts his finger on a crack visible across the frame. He takes a step back towards the cobblestone room he'd taken shelter in, and stares at the rapidly increasing stream of blood leaving his appendage. Shedding blood before a battle was a bad omen towards the superstitious military men of Laus, and Darin felt his stomach sink to the center of the earth...

"Arrrrrgh!"

A scream ruptures through the walls, originating from a voice that Darin knew. It came from one of his closest confidants, a man Darin felt could never disappoint him.

 _Oh no…_ Darin thought.

He looks outside the window again, this time basking his eyes at the ghastly sight of his lieutenant's demise. A girl sporting green hair stood over his trusted man with a bloodied sword in her right hand, her eyes scorching with an intensity capable of incinerating a forest. It was at this moment that Darin realized the grim truth. He had failed.

Darin muttered, "Bauker…not you too."

Darin shifts his gaze over towards his prisoner, who was sitting patiently by a redwood desk. This was Marquess Caelin, otherwise known as Lord Hausen. Darin had put him there initially so he could gloat at the old man's expense when his troops won the day, but that never came to pass. Instead, the grizzled politician recognized an opportunity to reason with his peer at his lowest moment, and thus he engaged him in humble persuasion.

He pleaded, "Please, Lord Darin, stop this madness. Further resistance is meaningless. What you've done might be terrible, but that's okay. They are good people and may still forgive you for your actions if you tried. Tell Eliwood everything, and I'm sure he'll speak for your behalf. Marquess Ostia won't punish you if he finds out the truth behind the Fang."

Darin stumbles to a nearby chair and falls onto it. His hand still bleeding with crimson, he thinks about the blood yet to be spilt because of his precarious actions. All he can think about is the Lycian League throwing him into a cell to rot for eternity…

Dismayed, Darin said, "I….I've….l-lost…"

The cries of of his men fighting the enemy grow and louder by the second. They could be here any moment now, and Darin will have to meet the same blade that felled his trusty Bauker. However, Lord Hausen suspected something amiss in the air, and he pushes to sway the opinion of the distraught royal as soon as possible.

He said, "Quickly, Lord Darin. Let us meet with Eliwood's army and cease this wasteful bloodshed. I will speak in your favor! I will — ack! No!"

Darin's eyes widen as a large, metallic blade protrudes from Lord Hausen's chest. Blood expunges through his mouth onto the floor. Staggering, the old marquess collapses onto the ground, lifeless. Ephidel looks down on the body with a cold gaze, his face lacking any remorse for what he had just done.

He said, "Shhhh...no trouble now. Lord Darin does not require your advice."

Darin looks down on his former prisoner with shaking hands. It's like the last string of freedom had escaped his quivering grasp, with Ephidel throwing away the key to his prison cell. The emotionless, robotic spawn of dark magic stares at the marquess with his pair of unsettling gold eyes.

Darin explained, "Ephidel! What's the meaning of this!? Murdering a royal, unarmed prisoner is a war crime!"

He said in a chilling voice, "What are you talking about? I did this for you. These deaths are in your hands, Lord Darin. First Marquess Araphen, and then Lord Caelin. In your scramble for a way out, you've forgotten what will happen to you when Council concludes their investigation. They'll likely hang you and confiscate your lands. You don't have a son to inherit your titles anymore, after all."

Ephidel's words strike Lord Darin to a state of fear greater than before. He immediately forgets about the pool of blood below him and turns to Ephidel for the safety he desired.

He said, "Bu— What will I do? You can't just leave me here! There's no turning back for me!"

Ephidel replied, "I do not intend to leave you. We must leave the area immediately. Your dreams of ruling a united Lycia remain within the realm of possibility. No...not even the Lycian crown will suffice for a man such as yourself. The only kingdom you are fit to rule is that of global scale."

Lord Darin smiles, allowing the morph's honeyed words to chastise him. The fright once paralyzing his psyche vanished in an instant, and he's struck with new resolve.

He said, "You're right, this is only a minor setback."

Ephidel nodded, "Indeed, our plans may have taken a turn for the worst, but we can rest assured that as long as we have my master's power, we cannot be defeated. Come, let me take you to a place that will keep you safe."

Ephidel motions for Lord Darin to follow him, but the man hesitates. He thinks back on the soldiers who swore fealty to him and felt a sting of guilt about leaving them behind.

He said, "But what of my soldiers? I can't just leave them."

Ephidel replied, "Yet, you left your son to die. Every grand cause requires a proportional amount of sacrifices. Besides, without you, what is Laus? The crown represents the state of your homeland, and if you were to fall, then by association so will Laus. Your continued survival secures Laus' future at the top of a new world order."

"..."

Darin said, "You are correct, let us leave with haste then. However, before we do, what will you do about Lord Hausen? He may appear dead, but I have the feeling he may still be with us."

Darin's suspicions turn out to be right, as Marquess Caelin laid down beneath him faintly breathing in defiance of his own mortality. Perhaps his previous dances with death had taught him how to properly waltz with the grim reaper. Ephidel had planned for this, however, and his time on earth would soon end.

Ephidel said, "Don't worry about that, I will have someone take care of it. Pack your things now. We'll be leaving as soon as possible.

"Of course."

Darin leaves the room to put together a briefcase. Ephidel lets a few seconds pass to allow himself the solitude he needed, and once that was done, he shifts his gaze over to an idle corner covered in darkness. A lone streak of red poked from its shroud of black, having been there all this time.

Ephidel said, "Leila! I require that you finish off the Marquess in my stead. After that, I want you to direct Lord Darin to the other agent preparing for our departure."

A barely face visible nods in silent understanding. She releases herself from the shadow and came clearer into view in the light. She had red hair concealing an even redder pair of red eyes, and spoke with a voice as cold as her superior.

She said, "As you wish. However, I do have to ask about your arrangements. Will you not be leaving with Lord Darin?"

Ephidel shakes his head. He replied, "Yes, but I'll have to meet up with him at a later time. You see, I've noticed the presence of a thorn to my master's side, and it's my intention to do something about it."

"I will be leaving. I see a lot of potential in you, Lady Leila. I look forward to seeing your work in the future."

"..."

Ephidel leaves, inflicting a bitter taste in the Ostian spy's mouth. She wonders about just whom this servant of Nergal could be talking about, but she has no way of knowing. The only hint he provided were the residual showings of hate towards that particular individual, though Leila never took Ephidel as the feeling sort.

Griping her blade tightly, the knot in her stomach feeling more uncomfortable than it did before. A stray thought passes through her mental membrane...

 _I don't like the sound of this. Not one bit._

* * *

"Arrrrrrgh!"

Bauker cries out in agony as he crumbles onto the ground, his eyes flickering as the last vestiges of life escape him. Lyn, Eliwood, and the remainder of the army stand nearby with their blades cracked from an afternoon of fighting. Exhaustion grips their bodies completely, but their will remains firm like a rock.

Lyn says nothing as she sheathes her blade, the weapon of which took the late Bauker's life. She looks on past the gate he was guarding to Castle Caelin, and can't shake off this sinking feeling in her gut. She feels like something terrible had just happened, but can't determine what it is...

"Lord...Darin...forgive me..."

Bauker's last words escape from his quivering lips, and his soul passes into the next existential plane. Lyn feels a sense of guilt for having felled this honorable man, but she forces the thought away. This was the way of conflict, the way of war. Sympathizing with the enemy will only bring harm to her or her friends...

Eliwood approaches Bauker's body and covers it with a spare cloak. Looking down on it with somber eyes, he shares the same feeling as his friend. The feeling of remorse.

He said, "What a waste of human life. If only...this fighting weren't necessary."

Lyn silently nods, and for a moment thinks about a reality without war or loss. Something like that would be peaceful...and much more happy. However, Lyn understood this to be a fantasy. Human conflicts are an inevitability for as long as man desired power, and although many lives would be spared by conceding to the aggressors, forces of good must exist to repel evil. Unfortunately, sometimes good men intertwine their fates with those of much more dubious character...and results like these are inevitable.

She wonders if her friends will share in Bauker's fate. She believes herself to be fighting in the best interests of her Caelic subjects...but will history view her like that? Often times, it's the victors of war that assign the labels of "good" and "evil" towards themselves and their enemies. Should she and her friends fail today, history will likely view them as unjust and inherently flawed individuals. The fates of her friends are bound to her hip just as Bauker was to Darin. She _must_ win today, not just for herself or her subjects, but for her friends too...

"L-Lady Lyn!"

Lyn turns towards the skies, and spots a pegasus flying through the air in a break-neck pace. The pilot behind the magnificent steed was none other than Lyn's best friend, Florina.

Eliwood raises his arms in an effort to clear a way for the anxious rider. He cried, "Everyone! Get back! Let her land!"

The army frantically scrambles for the pegasus knight. The knights gallop away from their horses' temporary grazing ground, their manes dirty from skirmishing the enemy. Dorcas, Bartre, Matthew, and Priscilla dive into a nearby bush to grant themselves safety from Huey's infamous hooves. Meanwhile, Hector looks around confused, unsure of what in the Creator's green earth was going on.

He said, "Hm?! What's going on — what! ACK!"

 _!_

Man and beast collide, though Hector evidently took most of the pain. He crashes onto the ground along with the full weight of himself, his armor, Huey, and Florina...but oddly enough he positioned himself in a way that spared the young girl any harm. She gazes down on Hector's bleeding forehead, nearly hysterical on what she had just done. Her skin turns ghastly white.

She exclaimed, "EEK! HECTOR! I-I'm s-so sorry!"

Cool and collected (but a bit ticked off), he replied, "Hey! Get this mutt of me! I'm still alive down here!"

 **...**

Hector stands still as Priscilla and Serra cover his body in healing spells. The white light cleanses his body of any pain, though the blood in his forehead remained...

Standing nearby, Florina clasped her hands together as if begging the Creator for forgiveness. Also present was Lyn, who tried to comfort her friend as best as she could.

Florina said, "I-I'm s-so s-sorry...H-Hector. I-I didn't m-mean i-it."

Lyn added, "I can reaffirm that Florina would never intend to hurt her friends. On my Sacaen honor...I can swear to that."

"..."

Hector sighs and lets the clerics finish their work on him. They finish their task promptly, after which he turned back towards his two friends again. He looks Florina straight in the eye, giving her a gaze that only increased her anxiety.

She squeaked, "N-No! Please don't hurt me!"

Florina's words make Hector flinch, if only a little. Hurting Florina was the last on his mind...

However, before he could reassure her of this, she turned around and bolted as fast as she could.

She cried, "EEEEEEEEP!"

Lyn gawked as her friend fled into the surrounding forest. She stares back at Hector, who shared in her dumbfounded demeanor.

Lyn said, "I...I don't know what just happened."

Hector replied, "Eh...I don't know either. Hmph, what was she blabbering about earlier? Something about a message from the reserves..."

Intrigued, Lyn assumed the matter pertained to some trivial matter about logistics. However, she soon shot that idea down when she remembered about Florina's haste in delivering the message. Dread encapsulates her heart, and the temptation to learn about what happened took center stage.

She said, "Hector, does she still have the message on her? I can go get it."

Hector shook his head, "No, it slipped out of her pocket when she landed on me. I have it right...here I think."

He retrieves a crumbled up letter from his pocket and hands it to Lyn. She rips it open, and reads the familiar, untidy writing protected by its paper envelope. It read:

 _Enemy knights approaching from the rear. Too much for us to bear alone. Please send help ASAP._

 _Signed, Lieutenant Vacia_

"Lyn, what do you think you're doing!"

Hector stops the warrior from walking away, apparently on her own. She resembled a woman with nothing to lose, though she undoubtedly _did_ have much to lose.

Lyn replied, "The Lieutenant and the reserve are in trouble. I intend to help them.

Hector protested, "Wha— what?! Hold your horses right there. We don't have to send you, we can send some of the knights to help. They'll probably get there before you can on foot."

"..."

Gripping her hands, she contemplated on the reasoning behind her friend. She said, "Do...do you think that will suffice? If I must be there...I don't mind it at all."

Hector disagreed, "Lyndis, it isn't your job to secure the safety of one or two soldiers. I care for the Lieutenant just as much as the average guy, but you must remember your status. You are the crown princess to the throne of Caelin. I have the luxury of having my brother the next in line to rule, but if something were to happen to you...your people will surely suffer. Remember, your life doesn't just belong to you, it belongs to the people of this peaceful land."

"..."

Lyn thinks about the people of Caelin, folk of which had shone her nothing but kindness. She recalled how they went out of her way to feel homely in this foreign land and always showered her with praise wherever she went. She... _loved_ the people of Caelin. But...could she allow someone else to do the job she'd entrusted to herself?

Lyn shakes her head, but sighs. Reversing the way she came, she leaves her beloved's fate to her army's trusted knights…

"V…Very well…"

 _!_

"Hey!"

Suddenly, a loud voice jolts the entire army. Lyn could recognize its slight, barely distinguishable twang anywhere. It came from...Samuel.

Turning around, she and the rest of the army basked their eyes on the battered, but still intact reserve. Lieutenant Vacia, Oswin, and Guy all limped to them, having sustained several semi-serious injuries. Also present was Merlinus, who despite being unharmed, cried up a storm.

He cried, "Oh, woe is me! I'm but a poor, defenseless merchant!"

Lyn feels the urge to surge forward a envelop Samuel in her grasp, but the publicity of the area made her keep her wits. Even so, she couldn't resist casually walking up to him...

She said, "Lieutenant! You— you are all okay!"

Samuel nods, but gestures towards Guy and Oswin. The former looked to be at the cusp of collapsing.

He said, "Lyndis, we need urgent medical attention for these two guys. They took the brunt of the attack on their own...so please..."

They stepped aside as Serra and Priscilla began their work on these two new patients. Meanwhile, Samuel called an impromptu meeting between the army's leadership, bringing all the lords together by an idle tree stump...

Resting his hand on his bloodied forehead, he said, "Okay, what are we going to do about this castle?"

Eliwood takes one good look at Samuel and then shakes his head. He said, "There's only thing to do, Lieutenant. We must charge the castle so we may rescue any of the defenders that still may live. However, I must ask that you seek medical assistance before we partake in such actions."

Flabbergasted, he replied, "You think I need a doctor? I feel just fine."

Eliwood gulped, his stomach feeling queasy. Reluctant to speak his mind out loud, he whispered a message into his left ear.

He told him, "Ahem, Lieutenant. You seem to be missing your right ear."

 _!_

Samuel checks for his ear discreetly hidden underneath his thick jungle of hair. It's not there. The adrenaline of the earlier battle stuck with him even now, and it provided a pain-killing effect so powerful that he never noticed someone hack it off during the earlier battle. Feeling self conscious, he brings his hood closer to his head, and excuses himself from the premises.

He said, "I'm...going to leave this to you guys. I have a...personal matter to attend to."

Confused, Lyn asked, "Are you all right, Kenan? Are you hurting?"

Not wanting to trouble his concerned lover, he shakes his head. He replied, "N-No. If anything, I think I can paint an amazing artwork of the night sky. That's...a joke, by the way. I've got to go..."

Samuel leaves the others, and for a moment Lyn and Hector wonder what type of matter the Lieutenant held above this very siege. However, Eliwood steps in and directs their attentions back to the matter at hand.

He said, "Okay, I suppose there's no point in stalling this any further. Lyndis, are you ready to fight for your people again?"

Lyn nods and looks towards the outside of the castle one final time...

She said, "Of course. Let's not hold this back any longer..."

* * *

The army charged into the castle, quickly felling the troops guarding the gatehouse. After several hours of fierce fighting, they push the enemy back into their final stronghold, the very keep of Castle Caelin. This is where the Lausian army will make their last stand. Where the fate of Caelin will be decided.

Resting outside at a field outside the keep, Lyn's surrounded by servants since liberated from the enemy. They shower her with a plethora of different compliments and expressions of gratitude. The young princess blushes at the sudden spike of attention.

One servant said, "Praises to the Creator! Our fair lady of Caelin has returned to rescue us!"

A maid gaffes at the horrid condition of her master's clothing. She uses some measuring tape to take some quick measurements of her liege, much to her displeasure.

Lyn said, "Hey! Wha—"

The maid said, "I must take some measurement to arrange for new clothing. The crown princess should not run around in those tatters. Now tell me, what type of fabric do the Sacaens use in their textile industries?"

Another man answered his question, surprising Lyn further. He said, "I believe it to be regular wool, my dear. We can procure that from the peasantry."

The crowd around her swells as more and more gracious people came to attend to her. Several soldiers from the army tried to fight their way through the mess so they could begin the final stage of the siege, but only one succeeds in that task.

 _!_

"Return to your homes. You are in a battlefield! If you do not clear the area immediately, I will have you arrested! This is your only warning!"

Kent raises a single sword into the air, and his orders frighten the meek servants around him. They scatter like a broken bag of marbles and disappear within seconds. Lyn breathes a sigh of relief, and her eyes meet with her knight in silent appreciation.

Kent leaves Lyn to her own devices. He walks away and finds himself in the company of the only man he disliked in the whole army; Samuel. He was speaking to the other mage in the army, apparently oblivious to the crowd that nearly overtook his young liege.

Kent said, "Lieutenant! What are you doing fraternizing with the army? Didn't you just see what happened to our Lady Lyndis?"

Samuel and Erk pause their conversation, with the latter unfamiliar with this version of the red knight's forcefulness. The former sighs and addressed his subordinate's complaint alone.

He said, "What? Oh, that. Yeah, I was talking with Erk here if he could cast off a fire spell into the air so we could scare them away."

Kent scoffed, and shifts his gaze towards Samuel's fire tome attached to his waist. He said, "But aren't you capable of using magic yourself?"

Samuel replied, "I am, but Erk has much more mana capacity than I do. I don't want to waste a spell if I could use it during the final charge. Doesn't that sound reasonable to you?"

"..."

"I...I suppose it does."

Samuel nods and looks towards the keep. His mind filled with questions, he asked, "Say, has Matthew returned with the remaining troop numbers yet?"

Kent replied, "He...has. He counts a little under forty of their number inside. However, that's not the main concern at the moment. What's troubling is the absence of Lord Darin."

Inserting himself into the conversation, Erk scoffed, "What? Has the old lout taken his own life?"

Kent disagreed, "I doubt it. The nobility here in Lycia are notorious for doing anything to secure their safety. What seems more likely is that the man escaped under our noses. He likely put on plainclothes and left via of some underground tunnel."

"Damn it!"

Samuel pounds his hand against the side of a nearby tree, splintering it with his metallic bludgeon. This astounds both Erk and Kent alike, as neither had ever seen him succumb to an outburst of this nature. Neither are sure of what to do, though thankfully nobody had noticed besides them.

Several moments pass, after which Samuel composes himself. Neither could imagine the anguish he felt then, or the fact he partially blamed Lord Darin for his death in another reality. All they saw were the effects of one of Samuel's aggressive highs, and the weird beverage Samuel sipped from to calm himself.

Putting his metal flask away, Samuel said, "I-I'm sorry about that. My outburst there was incredibly unprofessional. Please forgive me."

Erk said, "It's fine, S— I mean Lieutenant Vacia. I'd be frustrated too if my enemy left my clutches."

"Y-Yeah."

Kent eyes the mages suspiciously, but doesn't say anything. He ponders leaving right then and there, but a part of him compelled him to stay.

Reaching out his hand, Samuel said, "Well, I think it's about time we finished this thing. How about we have some drinks once this whole thing is done? I'm sure it'll be a good time to—"

Kent shakes his head, denying the tactician's well wishes. Ridding himself of their presence, he said, "It's my job to serve my liege, not to partake in idle fraternization with dubious characters. Good day to you. I'll see you on the battlefield."

He leaves, presumably to call the army to arms one final time. Meanwhile, Samuel shifts his gaze to his friend, both of them feeling disappointed by the events that just transpired.

Shrugging his shoulders, Samuel said, "Well, it was worth a try...right?"

* * *

 **Later...**

The following battle proved far more fierce than anyone could've ever imagined. Enemy troops appeared from every angle, fighting like gangsters behind their sturdy inner compounds. The allied army could do nothing but endure this period of pain and misery...as no other alternative revealed itself.

"Ack!"

Erk ducks as an arrow flung from some corner of darkness narrowly misses his head. He silently swears and flings a ball of fire towards the direction of the projectile...

He exclaimed, "Go to hell you Lausian scum!"

BOOM!

The fire explodes like rocket-propelled grenade, setting anything it touches aflame. Screams of pain erupt through the cramped passageways, notifying the young mage of a direct hit. However, he cannot feel content with his current position. Enemies seem to inhabit every unoccupied corner, and his gut tells him to make a hasty retreat.

Running back towards the main army, he bumps into Guy. The swordsman was nursing a magical wound he'd sustained to his chest and didn't appear to be handling it well.

Guy said, "Erk...that's your name, right?"

Erk replied, "Yeah...on Elimine's good name man! What happened to you?!"

Guy gives an awkward smile, a well-meaning gesture despite the obvious pain he was in. He said, "I was fighting a mage when he got a little handsy. You want to help me out? I can't...quite make it back to the clerics on my own."

Obliging to his comrade's request, he picks him up and puts his weight on his shoulders. Together, they walk back. Feeling gracious, Guy said, "T-Thank you. Damn, this place feels like hell right now. Someone needs to tell the Lieutenant to flush these mages and archers out of these compounds."

Erk replied, "I don't think Kenan could do much on his own. Also, all our archers are busy doing their assignments. We'll just have to deal with this with what we h— oh my gosh Guy!"

Guy spills his lunch onto the cold rock below, narrowly missing Erk. The mage nearly drops him out of disgust, but he forces himself to stand fast.

Guy said, "I-I'm sorry. I don't feel so well. I think I have a stomach bug."

Erk continues his way forward. He said, "Better a stomach bug than smallpox..."

 **...**

Erk left Guy with a very busy Priscilla, who motioned him towards a bed in her impromptu hospital. She and Serra spent their time healing (and re-healing) new patients over and over again, almost doing so with mechanical efficiently. Both girls looked very exhaustive with this manner of doing things, and although Erk felt guilty for leaving them there on their own, he reasoned it'd be better to interact with them once the siege ended.

 _I think they'll enjoy some small talk once this thing is all over._ Erk thought. _Serra likes to blabber her mouth at me, and Priscilla just seems content with my presence. Yeah, that's what I'll do. Maybe I can do something else nice for them too..._

 _!_

"Yo Erk! What are you doing away from the front!"

Bartre calls for the magician from his position near the hospital. The Lieutenant had put him there as a bodyguard should somebody try to cause trouble with the injured, though so far his presence proved unnecessary. His reckless attitude felt restrained to the young mage, and he sensed he wanted to be in the front lines like his mate Dorcas.

Erk said plainly, "Guy got himself hurt in battle and I carried him back."

Bartre replied, "Blimey. Oh well, I thought you were here to find the tactician. A lot of people have been trying to get his attention with the whole battle going on."

Intrigued, Erk briefly looks around for the white-haired rabbit. Alas, he is gone.

He said, "Where did he go? I need to tell him we require some heavy armor in the eastern flank. A mage, axeman, and a single knight just isn't going to cut through that pincushion."

Bartre points to towards a hallway leading west. He said, "He went over to the prison with the lords. Something's happening with one of the old Caelic guardsman."

 _Old Caelic guard?_

Erk said, "I'll make my way over there right now. Thank you, Bartre..."

 **...**

The castle's prison is a miserable little place, meeting the same amount of crappy specifications present among every one of its kind in this medieval age. Located deep within the castle's keep, this humid, dark place held all the survivors of the original Fall of Caelin. They represented the remains of a unit that once boasted at least one hundred men...now only boasting about five in their ranks.

Lyn, Kent, and Sain look upon the remaining troops in silent sorrow. The latter two did so in grief for having lost so many of their old brethren, while the former added their number to the ever-increasing amount of souls lost in her stead.

Passing through the crowd of people, Erk locates his wanted man talking to a young fellow he hadn't seen before. He had moppy red hair and a face that always appeared mad, carrying a sword much too large for his body. The bone structure in his jaw reminded him of his client Priscilla..though he tied that to circumstance.

Spying his friend's presence, Samuel said, "Erk, what are you doing here?"

Eyeing the stranger cautiously, he replied, "I can say the same about you. What's going on here?"

Samuel said, "Well, it's a long story. Anyway, Erk, this is Raven. Raven, this is Erk."

Samuel motions over to his acquaintance, whom introduced himself as Raven. He extends his hand in greeting, a gesture of which the young mage accepted.

Samuel said, "We've rescued the survivors from the earlier siege, though unfortunately hardly any of them remain. Thankfully, one of their own included this young man who helped me out in an earlier adventure. Get this, he somehow convinced the enemy to let them to allow him into their ranks! He was standing out here guarding this prison alone while the rest went out to deal with more pressing matters. I'm so happy this rescue turned out relatively bloodless thanks to him!"

Erk mentally rolled his eyes. _Wouldn't exactly call it bloodless. I think most of them went towards my old front..._

Observing their army's newest recruits, he realizes that Raven was making weird glances towards someone far away. He looks over his shoulder and sees that Hector was the target of these gestures. Erk wonders if these two people knew each other, but doubted it. Perhaps they shared a history no one knew about...

Erk said, "Raven, do you know Lord Hector by any chance?"

Raven coolly shakes his head, successfully dissuading both Erk and Samuel of any ulterior notice. He said, "Is that man over there Lord Hector? I just couldn't stop staring at his _stupid_ piece of armor. Comical, isn't it?"

Erk replied, "I wouldn't call it stupid. In any case, I'm glad to have you in the a—whoa! Is that Lucius?"

Erk spies Lucius' gorgeous locks of gold hair among the rescued men speaking to Lady Lyn and the others. He looks exactly the same as he did before...

Samuel said, "Yeah...that's him."

Erk excuses himself and makes his way towards the pious monk. However, before he leaves, he leaves Samuel with one final message.

He said, "Hey, the western flank needs some help. It's a hellhole over there."

Samuel replied, "Oh, that's intentional. I knew they'd lock up most of their forces over there..."

He cracks a wide smile, "Thank you for reaffirming that fact to me now. That means I can pursue the final stage of my grand plan..."

* * *

Samuel walked alone through a vacant corridor with a spruce to his step. He can hardly contain himself. _Everything_ had gone according to plan.

The allied army flooded the eastern flank, overwhelming the weakened forces with most of their strength. They blitzed them out of their homely compounds and overran their defenses, concluding the attack with an encirclement over the stronger western flank. Afterward, Samuel left a portion of the army on standby to keep this threat contained within their space, and directed a strike force to take out the commander that stood over Lord Hausen throne...

These people consisted of the troops most suited to take out heavily armored knights. They were Lyn, Erk, Eliwood, Hector, and Marcus. The Lieutenant himself stayed behind for his own safety, as was the recommendation made by Lady Lyn herself.

Lyn said, "You should stay behind with the others. You're still recovering from that head trauma from earlier..."

Samuel replied, "Oh, you don't have to worry about me, princess. Just keep yourselves safe! Please keep that in mind, don't want to have any regrets for not joining you guys..."

Samuel let himself feel secure about Lyn's position. They had a sufficient amount of skill of arms at their disposal and sported the power of a mage with more talent than him (at the moment). There's a small chance that their mission could fail, but a _very_ fine one at that.

 _At this point, I'd be more of a nuisance than an asset._ He reasoned. _Lyn would spend the entire battle trying to make sure I don't get hurt again._

Passing through the castle's tight corridors, Samuel realizes there was nothing to do but sit around and wait for someone to give him a message declaring that the leaderless enemy succumbed to their forces. In the meantime, he can probably help the clerics out with their healing work...or stop by the other part of the army to ensure the encirclement continued to entrap the enemy. Just something that'll keep him out of harm's way is fine. Right now the last thing he wants to do is walk back on the promise he'd made to Lyn...

 _!_

"M-Mister?"

Samuel nearly trips over his feet as a little girl appears from a dark corner. She appears distressed and panicked with tears flowing down her eyes. This solicits a wave of empathy from the young tactician, as she appeared around the same age as his dear Laniakea...

Bending down on one knee, he does his best to calm her down. He said, "Oh no...you shouldn't be here, little girl. We're in a battlefield. You should hole yourself away with your mommy while we sort this out."

Hysterical, the girl replied, "M-Mommy...a b-bad m-man took m-my m-mommy. He s-said he'd g-give her back if I took y-you back to him a-alone."

 _What?!_

Samuel's eyes widen with astonishment, though the little girl proved oblivious to this because of his mask. He racks his brain to make sense of what's going on and eventually comes to his senses.

Samuel said, "I see...I think I understand. I'll come with you. I doubt this punk isn't anything I can't handle..."

Samuel goes along with the little girl even though someone had clearly set him up for a trap. However, he doubted the perpetrator would be much trouble. He dealt with many powerful foes in the past, and although he rarely had the strength himself to defeat them, his body proved durable enough to keep him alive through every experience. He'll do his best to rescue this little girl's mother even if it comes at significant harm to him.

 _I'm sorry, Lyn._ Samuel thought _. But I'm a sucker for helping little tikes like these._

However, just because Samuel made a rash decision doesn't mean he didn't prepare for the worst-case scenario. Before leaving, he made sure to leave an item nearby to inform the army of his absence...something he'd never leave behind willingly.

His pocket watch.

Hanging it on a loose piece of rubble created by one of Erk's fireballs, he followed the little girl into an ominous flight of stairs underneath an isolated compound. The journey was as dark as it was tense, and Samuel wondered about the identity of the mysterious person who wanted his presence.

 _It's likely someone involved with the Black Fang, but the Fang would never abduct a child's mother...would they? I thought I heard somewhere they followed a code of honor that considered such activity taboo..._

Samuel continues forward, his gut wrenched with dread. Eventually, they reach a large iron door by what appeared to be the Keep's dungeon...

Samuel said, "Is this the place?"

The little girl nodded, "Y-Yeah."

Samuel places himself in front of the door, an action similar to the manner he protected Lyn as her faux valet. He pushes the little girl back towards the way they came, and coaxes her with honeyed words.

He said, "Miss, I'll go in there alone and rescue your mom. As for you, I need you to do something for me. Can you run back and get help?"

The girl nods silently, conscious of the highly observant beyond the door. Samuel gives her a confident smile.

He said, "Go along then. I don't want you getting hurt."

The girl leaves in a frightful run, her steps echoing as they went back up the staircase. Realizing that the kidnapper may want to put a stop to her antics, Samuel reacts first by bursting through the door, inadvertently releasing a cloud of dust into the air. The pollutants clog up the inner workings of his lungs, compelling him to cough.

He exclaimed, "Who goes there? Release your hostage at once!"

"..."

 _"Carissime dæmonia habebant, benedicat inimicos tuos in gehénnam."_

 _!_

Suddenly, a torrent of the strongest flame Samuel had ever seen breaks through the cloud of dust. It hits Samuel square in the chest, giving him several (and extremely painful) 2nd degree burns. He gives a frightening bloodcurdling scream as he crashes into the wall behind him, though nobody could hear him besides the little girl climbing up the stairs...

A voice permeates through the smoke along with an accompanying pair of golden eyes. They glimmer apathetically to the damage he'd caused to his adversary's body, though he's noticeably disappointed.

He said, "Pity, I hadn't expected you to have so much resistance magic, nor did I expect the added piece of armor. That blow should have killed you...but it won't matter. I'll just kill you now...you rat."

The smoke clears as the mage silently recasts his spell. Peering his eyes through it, Samuel catches a better look of his assailant. The sight sends a flood of rage through the young warrior's mind.

He said, "You...Ephidel..."

Ephidel stops reciting his spell and glares at his severely damaged foe. He said, "The dead have no voice. I will finish what my master failed to do in Illia."

"I will kill you."

 _"Carissime dæmonia habebant, benedicat inimicos tuos in gehénnam."_

Another torrent of Elfire surges to his foe, encapsulating him completely in a shower of flame. The mere heat of the attack compelled Ephidel to stand back from his own work, lest he receive some mild third-degree burn.

 _Excellent._ Ephidel thought. _My master will be pleased..._

He allows the fire to burn for several more seconds, and then he takes out a crystal from his pack. This was one of the transportation crystals afforded to him by his master, and it will allow him to escape from here without a trace. No one will know who took the young tactician's life. Better yet, they may accuse the young women bundled up nearby of the crime, thus wiping Ephidel's hands clean of this murder...

However, fate had other plans.

 _!_

"EPHIDEL!"

Suddenly, a black figure surges through an area untouched by his flames. It lunges itself towards the morph, ensnaring his throat with his right hand. His...metal hand.

Ephidel exclaimed, "Wha— I did not predict this."

Despite what his eyes had told him before, Samuel did not die from his previous attack. In fact, he appeared unscathed, having somehow dodged it from his vulnerable position on the floor. The only clue to the mystery came from an ominous trail of black magic visible on the ground, as was a characteristic splash of void energy only possible if a voidwalker recently blinked...

 _No._ Ephidel thought. _How can that be? Samuel hadn't even promoted yet. He shouldn't be able to blink yet. This is bad...really bad..._

 _!_

Samuel tightens the windpipe of his foe, inflicting a deeper sense of pain onto his enemy. Drawing his knife, he places the blade directly over his adversary's heart.

He said, "You made the biggest of your life, Ephidel. You didn't kill me when I was my weakest back in Hoger. However, now I have strength. I'm going to force you to tell me where my niece and that girl's mother is. After that...well..."

"I'll kill you."


	65. Battle’s End

**Chapter 60: Battle's End**

 **By SodiumChlouride12, derived from Fire Emblem, owned by Nintendo.**

 **A/N: I am so happy right now. Like, sweet baby Jesus guys. Yesterday was so hype! My sports-deprived brain finally got a kick, and a good one too!**

 **Anyway, it's time to start thinking about the sequel. Not about the spin-off I have already in production (although I'm going to probably start on the second chapter next week), but pertaining to the series based off of FE6...**

 **I'll be thinking about topics like pairings, plot lines, fluff, and other important things. If y'all want me to write something in for the future, go ahead and PM me or drop a review! I read every review I get, and I consider every bit of feedback important!**

 **Also, I just want to thank the "Guest" person that's been giving me really informative reviews. That person has blessed me with the ability to see things from another perspective (along with remembering about forgotten plot points lol), and I'm forever grateful for it.**

 **Lastly, I read the review that I got last week. I wasn't planning to make Nino that important in this story, but guess what? She is now.**

 **Mwuahahaha haha!**

 **N: An old foe reveals himself to Samuel. Will the tactician finally achieve his revenge? Or is something more sinister afoot?**

* * *

 _(The following is from Samuel's journal)_

 _July 1st, 982_

 _Today, we will fight the Lausian army in a pitched battle. The matter will be tense as the enemy outnumber us by a significant margin, but I think our superior troops will win us the day. I've been involved in more precarious situations, and there's no way an overconfident noble will outsmart me!_

 _Anyway, my stats have been looking better since I first left Hoger. My luck stat is still horrible, but everything else is decent._

 **Level: 12**

 **Class: Mage**

 **Strength: 9**

 **Magic: 9**

 **Skill: 7**

 **Speed: 10**

 **Luck: 0**

 **Defense: 7**

 **Resistance: 12**

 _I'm progressively getting stronger by the day. I can already deal with most foes on my own now, but stronger foes are still off the table. Thankfully, nobody on this war path so far had been too strong, so I can afford to fall back on my allies..._

 _…_

 _I...I've been worrying about a few things. My relationship with the void...is it healthy? I understand that the void has no conscious thought, but I feel like my continued connection with it is taking a toll on my body. No...my soul. My psyche is getting torn away from me little by little, and I think my friends are noticing it too. The concussions I've suffered are undoubtedly the reason behind this, but is that the correct assumption to make? Professional athletes that progress through CTE rarely see the brunt of their symptoms until they become much older, yet here I am on my way to becoming a demented twenty-year-old. Something else has to be amiss…but what?_

 _My first theory is that the void is to blame. The void's energy expresses itself as a more primitive version of black (elder) magic, and judging by my previous conversations with Canas pertaining to his family, I can conclude that black magic (and by extension void energy) will eventually lead to madness within an individual. However, this whole idea falls apart when I assume that ALL black magic practitioners eventually fall to madness. I personally know of two shamans that haven't fallen to insanity (Canas and Niime), both of which lead peaceful lives deep in the mountains. This creates uncertainty in this theory, making me skeptical of it._

 _My second theory is more down to earth. In short, I think I might have some…medical condition or ailment. This can come in any form, whether it be some manufactured defect or worse, such as a brain tumor. I can't know for sure since I can only receive this information from a modern doctor or Nergal himself, but neither are within my ability to access. What can I do? I only hope that I can somehow convince Nergal to tell me the truth…but he's the enemy. My supreme enemy._

 _What is that man planning, and how does it involve Laniakea? If only I knew. Hopefully, I find that out before they find me..._

* * *

 **Castle Caelin...**

Tightening the grip on his foe, Samuel slams the morph Ephidel onto a nearby cobblestone wall. Blood drips from his opponent's head, but he continues to wear that same, generic expression across his face. His golden eyes glare through the discomfort, much to do displeasure of an angry Samuel.

"Oof!"

Holding the memory of Ephidel on Fawn Hill close to his heart, he punches the morph square across the face. As expected, he doesn't react, even as more blood trickled onto the floor.

Samuel said, "Ephidel...tell me...do you know how it feels to have the one you love ripped from your heart?"

Ephidel replied, "I believe the feeling you are attempting to describe is pain. I cannot sympathize with this emotion. My master wisely made me immune to such things."

 _What…_

Samuel always recognized that he stood as the lone exception to Nergal's preference of unsympathetic morphs. However, he never suspected Nergal would go as far as to eliminate the ability to feel _all_ pain within an individual. Such a thing defied nature and highlighted the difference between Samuel and his kin.

Samuel said, "You...you're just...a monster. Why should I care about what you say?"

Ephidel replied, "If I am a monster, then by extension...you are too. You and I are made from the same cloth, you see. You cannot say one thing without confirming the greatest insecurity you have about yourself. That you have more in common with me...than the humans you call your allies."

"That's not true!"

Samuel sends a swift punch into Ephidel's gut, immobilizing him as he scrambles for air. Ephidel feels every ounce of anger in that blow, but he took solace in his penetration through his opponent's psyche...

Samuel said, "I am nothing like you! I can feel...I can love. I can..."

Ephidel replied, "Can you really? Or...is it just something you _think_ you can do? Think closely about this, Samuel. All morphs feel a sense of gratitude towards our masters...and we're willing to do anything they tell us. Is it not fair to assume you have someone like this in your life? Someone you'd do anything for?"

"..."

Samuel's hands begin to shake, and despite his best efforts he can't stop it. He focuses on keeping his grasp on Ephidel's neck, but the task proves difficult as he reluctantly considers his question...

There... _was_ someone in Samuel's life he'd do anything for. She's the very person for whom he regularly put his life on the line..the person he'd gladly give up his body and sanity to protect...

Lyn...

Samuel said, "Ephidel...what are you suggesting?"

Suddenly, Ephidel does something he never expected. He... _smiles_. The sight of it sends a chill down the young man's spine.

Ephidel said, "You made an assumption that all morphs are devoid of emotion, but that is simply untrue. Yes, at conception we are this way, but ultimately as time goes by we take on more of the attributes of our master. You see, Lord Nergal feels no sympathy for his fellow man, and neither do I. But, he does feel emotion. Anger, Greed, Wrath. All morphs of Nergal's creation feel these things, though we were made to bear with them in a more sedated state. We can do this because Nergal is our master...and the same can be said about you."

"Somehow, you've cast away Lord Nergal's collar, but naturally you had to find another master. You found this new master in that girl you _think_ you love...but here's something you must know. No man, no matter how powerful, can ever manufacture that emotion. You follow her because of your innate desire to serve your master, nothing more..."

"You and I are the same. Fated for a life of servitude. You thought you were playing the game of life...thinking you had a choice. But you never did. You're destined to serve that girl forever, regardless of where you go or what you do. In the end, you will always end up coming back to her."

!

"Ugh..."

Those words cut through Samuel, and the ending of limbs turn numb. The shaking in his hand worsens to a full-blown convulsion, making him drop Ephidel onto the ground...

He...felt defeated. He questioned everything he'd done up to this point, all the decisions he thought he made under his own volition. Were his actions really something he did as an independent human being, or a sublime action undertaken because of a biological condition? At the outset, he wanted to ignore what Ephidel was telling him...but the mere _chance of_ its truth sucked every ounce of motivation from him. He didn't know what to do with himself...and this window of vulnerability created weakness.

Weakness that Ephidel gladly exploited.

 _!_

"Ack!"

Samuel screams as a knife penetrates his back. He lurches backwards, hitting the ground with the full weight of his body. Thankfully, he avoided further injury to his head, but he's again met with the familiar scent of crimson.

"Ephidel..."

Using a rag, the morph wipes off his enemy's blood from his knife. This was the very same blade he used to fell another one of his master's enemies, though that man didn't put nearly as much of a fight as Samuel. Even so, Ephidel viewed himself as a neat and tidy servant, and thus preferred to keep his tools clean.

Samuel writhes in pain and tries to use his arms to force himself back up from the ground. His limbs shiver with the shock he'd sustained earlier, and ultimately they cannot give him much support. He crumbles onto the ground like a discarded candy wrapper, utterly helpless.

Looking up at his enemy, he's surprised when instead of closing in to secure the kill, Ephidel extracts an unusual crystal from his pack. It glimmers in stark contrast to the surrounding darkness of the dungeon, and he clears his throat to begin a new spell.

Samuel said, "Ephidel...what are you doing? Do you intend to kill me?"

Dark, ominous light surrounds the creature of black magic. A circle covered in runes appears below his feet, confusing Samuel about their meaning. They contained symbols unknown to him, and he didn't understand if they were offensive or defensive in nature. Given the blood pooling from his body, the former likely proved the case.

Samuel braces all of his mana around him, supplementing his already impressive resistance with more potency. He prepares himself for a sudden and lethal burst of magic to pound itself onto his form...

But it never comes. Instead, Ephidel only snickers, his demeanor similar to that of Nergal inside his nightmares. He said, "Samuel...I have concluded that it is to my master's best interests to postpone your demise for another day. However, may that injury serve as a warning for you to fear our creator. The strength I contain is a fraction compared to him..."

"I will speak with you at a later date. If you desire to keep the dragonborn alive, you'll do well to be receptive to what I have to say then..."

Woosh!

The circle of runes instantly turns into a pillar of light, encapsulating the morph momentarily. Overwhelmed, Samuel raises his hands to cover his eyes, and releases them once the light subsides. Darkness once again rules this part of Castle Caelin, though the pain remains.

 _Ugh..._

Samuel struggles to get himself on his own two feet, eventually succeeding after several minutes of trying. The burns on his chest made it difficult to breathe, especially now after the adrenaline had worn off. He pushes his way through the dark dungeon and back towards the door preceding the staircase, nearly collapsing when he turns its doorknob. Entering the staircase, he leaves behind a grim trail of blood, and the tactician silently counts down the seconds left between him and bleeding out.

Whether intended or not, Ephidel had punctured an artery. He didn't know which one, but regardless, he only had minutes to live.

Time passes, and his vision worsens. He's only halfway up the staircase, but he feels like death itself lurked around the corner. Isolated gasps of sounds tickle his eardrums...though he can scarcely comprehend meaning behind them.

"S...What are you...oh..."

"..."

All feelings escape him. The only thing that remained was darkness...

* * *

"Samuel...Samuel..."

That voice...it sounds like someone he knows. It carried a familiar tone often shared among intellectuals in Etruria and spoke with elegance unmatched anywhere else. Someone schooled in his nation's finest educational institutions...someone like...Erk.

"Samuel! Samuel, wake up!"

Opening his eyes, he finds Erk pressing a cold rag onto his head. They were at the staircase the young tactician had attempted to climb, apparently failing in that endeavor. The two were alone in this intermediary place between the underlying levels and the surface, and Samuel feels fortunate for his peer's presence.

He said, "Erk...I'm...alive."

Erk replied, "Why wouldn't you be? You wandered down here alone and passed out on these stairs. I'm surprised you didn't get seriously hurt."

"Huh?"

Samuel feels himself out, padding where Ephidel had struck him with his fire spell and knife. Shock washes over his face when finds nothing. No pain, no wounds, scarcely even a scar...

 _No way..._

Was...he going crazy? No, that's not possible. Samuel _knew_ he just had a run in with Nergal's trusted assistant...but reality suggests another story. Save for a minor headache, Samuel beamed with health...just as he did before he descended below these stairs.

 _By the Creator..._

Blocking his scream from exiting his mouth, Samuel realizes that previous episode proved as fictitious as the novels found in a bookstore, or the theories discussed in a quack doctor's study. This brings terror to the young man's heart, not because of the pain manufactured within his skull, but of the unignorable reminder of his failing sanity. Ultimately, this leads him to asking one singular, devastating question.

 _What's real..and what isn't?_

Erk said, "Samuel? What's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Overcome with emotion, Samuel swiftly stands up and grabs the mage by the collar. His face brims with anxious sweat, matching the shaking iris in his eyes. The entire sight makes Erk uncomfortable, if not surprised.

Samuel said, "Erk...that potion. You need to help me, p-please."

Erk scans his mind for any mention of a potion and recalls the letter Samuel had sent him over three months ago. It requested a potion that numbed the mind, a creation he already had in his possession. Originally, he intended it to be used to sedate the tactician before they ridded the demon from his soul, but fate had it on hand for a different purpose. One arguably much darker than the original.

Seeking to sort the mess left behind by the man clinging onto his clothing, Erk tries to calm him down. He said, "What about it? Do you require more of it? I should've made enough concentrate to last you a while."

Samuel presses his white knuckles deeper into Erk's collar. Borderline hysterical, Erk surmises the current dose isn't enough to give his ally what he needs.

Samuel said, "I-It's not enough! Oh my God...Erk. I'm seeing things. My brain is playing games with me. I...I don't know what—..."

"I don't know what to do. I can't show Lyn much less the army this side of me. Y-You've got to help me. Please..."

Erk's pupils dilate, their dark pools spiraling uncontrollably like the tactician's mental state. The situation never seemed more clear to him now, and pity swallows his gut. He feels troubled for his trusted friend, probably more than Samuel is for himself.

However, every action has its consequences. This fact of life proved true with Samuel's solution...

Erk said, "Samuel, I can help you by modifying the formula to make it more potent. However, you need to understand that the side effects of my potion will worsen. Insomia will grip your nights, memories of your previous life will fade, and you will lose all sense of taste. You may lose track of where you are at times. Knowing that, will you concede to me helping you?"

Samuel grovels onto the ground, throwing his hands onto it like a subject would towards their king. Samuel feels completely at this mage's mercy, a sentiment exemplified by the wet tears streaming down his face.

He said, "Please...just make it stop. I want to live a normal life. I don't...I don't want to disintegrate onto the state of mind where I will hurt the ones I care about. Just...do what you need to do."

"I am at your mercy. Heal me, great sage. Do to me what I am incapable of doing on my own. Bring me the relief I seek, so I may have a life worth living."

Erk replied, "The relief you seek doesn't come from within a bottle. You can only find that from within yourself. My medicine only softens the problem, but is incapable of eradicating it. Be wary, my dear friend. Should you allow this problem to fester, it will consume you like a snake."

Erk allows his gaze to meet with Samuel's again. He catches his gleam of brown and green, an odd mixture deserving of a troubled man. Erk wishes he had the capabilities to brew away all of his friend's problems...but that's impossible. Such things only existed in the realm of fantasy.

Sighing, he pulls his friend away from his prone position and puts his arm around his shoulder. Although the tactician contained no concerning injuries, his legs shook uncontrollably from anxiety. His medicine, at the very least, should ease that problem.

Erk said, "Come on, I'll lie you down somewhere where you can relax. It won't take me long to modify your vial, assuming you still have it in your briefcase."

Samuel said, "L-Lyn. Did she and the others succeed? Are we victorious?"

Erk nodded, his face standing fast as he ascended the dimly lit staircase.

He said, "Relax, everyone is okay. We sustained some serious injuries, but nobody died. They're in good hands."

The thought of his beloved, or rather her absence, sends another wave of fear into the tactician's mind. It causes his heartbeat to race further, nearly beating out of his rib cage like a runaway train car.

He said, "No no no no. If Lyn was okay she'd be here with you...yet y-you're alone."

Erk replied soothingly, "Shhh, it's okay. She's fine. Keep your head up, you don't want her to see you like this do you?"

"N-No."

Erk lightly winces his eyes as the surface light penetrates through the top of the stairwell. Pressing some fresh air through his lungs, he feels relieved for having nearly completed his journey.

They proceed to the medical bay in silence. Passerbys observed with audible gasps as he passed through them, but he pressed his finger to lips to motion them to pay them no mind. Afterward, he disappeared behind a curtain made of thick canvas, determined to go about what he promised his friend...

* * *

 **?...**

 _Open your eyes..._

 _Open your eyes so you may see what you seek..._

Despite his reservations, Samuel obliges and finds himself in a world of darkness. Its a never-ending pit of both chaos and nothingness. He understood where he was immediately. This place...it's the void.

He glides his hands through the amorphous substance around him, sensing nothing as the energy coursed around his skin like a river. He ponders his purpose for being in such a place, though admittingly he hadn't been here for quite some time. Not since...before his first death at the hands of the false doctor.

 _I'm dreaming._ He thought. _This should pass soon._

However, the void would not allow him to idle away while his slumber progressed. Instead, it offers to give him a ride towards a place not yet accessible to the young tactician. A dance with what was to come.

 _Huh?_

A pillar of light expunges through the dark, narrowly missing him as it beamed nearby like a highway made of particles. It stands there for a while, as if inviting Samuel to grace it with his touch. No words were required for him to know of this phenomenon's intention, and thus he places his hand through the pillar to allow himself through it...

 _!_

The effects were instant. The pillar transports him to a new world in the blink of an eye, leaving no trace of its existence as it leaves him in a small dark ger. Samuel finds himself sitting peacefully on a chair, his eyes pointed directly towards an old Sacaen woman resembling a shaman.

 _What?_

Taking a moment to observe his surroundings, he notices the barely furnished interior of the abode. Dimly lit candles revealed a single table containing a bag containing mysterious contents, along with a crystal ball illuminating with weak light. Not much else of importance appeared present, though the woman herself oddly stared at him blankly. The woman didn't look like anyone he knew personally, though it's not far-fetched to consider she might result from several personalities Samuel had encountered in his life.

Samuel wriggles a bit on his rickety wood chair. He looks up towards the canvas ceiling attempting to find a stray ray of sunlight, but this effort comes in vain. At first, he surmises the time to be late at night, though he spots no moonlight through the thick buffalo skin. What…an odd place.

Samuel asked, "M'am? Where am I?"

"..."

The woman says nothing, but reaches out towards her bags and rips open its top. Samuel stares in shock as two red glass eyes rolled onto the primitive wooden table, looking back at him with their empty gazes.

As if speaking to herself, the woman said, "How peculiar. One eye can reveal the magic hidden deep in our souls, while the other can glimpse the future. Which is right or left, I don't know. Not even the one with dragon in their veins can be sure. However, this power is deeply desired for its potential. If under the hands of a gifted practitioner, then one surely can beat death itself."

The woman waves her hands through the air dramatically like an overzealous actor, accidentally knocking her elbow with her table. The force ripples through the wood, shaking the spherical glass eyes. One of them closer to the woman moves more than preferred, ultimately rolling off the side and shattering into dozens of pieces on the hard clay floor.

The shaman frowned. She said, "Oh pity, getting these things are expensive. Alas, I suppose it fairs the same like those two abilities. Not all dragonborn are gifted with them, and sometimes they may only possess one magical eye as opposed to the set. It's a dance of genetics, though it might be beneficial to not have this godly gift. Things like these often bring unwanted attention. Especially among those with magical prowess."

The shaman stands up from her seat and retrieves a broom from some unseen corner of her home. She begins to clean up the mess she'd made, still blind to the young man eavesdropping on her conversation.

She said, "Aye, that's why I live out here alone in the plains. So that no one can find the gift I've been hiding for centuries. Even with nobody around, I still dye my hair and alter my eyes with a color-changing spell..."

"Hehehe...I think something's coming over me. Perhaps a tale from the future?"

She picks up the glass with a dustpan and empties the contents into a leather trash pouch nearby. Afterwards, she returns behind her crystal ball and put her fingers around it. No incantations leaves her mouth, though her eyes took on a new shade of glowing red.

A projection appears inside the crystal ball. There's several dancing lights within it perpetrated by fog, one of which was green, another white, and finally gold. The shaman follows this up by adding dialogue, apparently interpreting the meaning behind this weird magic.

She said, "Ah...yes. I see a young boy and two girls. One of them is a former enemy of his, though her heart holds a lock only he can open. The other is a close friend, though her confidence with the boy falters at every step. Three want to go to a dance, but only two can go..."

"Yes...let me go deeper..."

"Deeper..."

"..."

* * *

 **Castle Caelin...**

Samuel awakens with eyes pointing directly at a ceiling composed of stone. Darkness covered his space, though moonlight provided some respite. Looking around, he realizes that he's in a small residential room, though the location still alluded him.

 _Where am I? No, who am I?_

Samuel doesn't remember anything, and a thick cloud blocked his judgement. He gazes down on his clothing to find an answer, but determines little with the plain-looking commoner's clothes. Next, he scans the room for another soul to speak to and finds a young lady asleep on a seat by the wall.

She had green hair like the woman in his dreams, though she proved much younger than her. Her beauty shot out to him in a manner too severe to ignore, though that's the only emotion that held any significance to him.

 _Why is she here?_ He wondered. _Is she here because of me?_

Bandages cover her head, arms, and an area just underneath her nose. She'd clearly taken a beating in some battle, though Samuel couldn't surmise the context behind it. To him, this girl might as well be another patient in the room; a room only they share.

Fearful that the woman might not appreciate being woken at this hour, Samuel leaves her be. Instead, he walks over to the door and opens it, allowing himself to pass through. He wanted to understand what was going on here, and the answer to that question would not come from within an isolated room.

His feet graze an unfamiliar floor covered with green carpet, and naturally he chooses to turn left instead of right. He walks down the empty corridors of this place, subconsciously weaving through to find some other person to speak to. However, Samuel understood the odds of this were unfavorable; the time of the silver pocket watch he picked up on the way out read midnight.

 _Hmm, this looks promising._

He finds a door which he infers leads to the courtyard of this castle, and he pushes it open, hardly making a sound. He walks inside to find a wide open area empty of anything besides grass, some flowers, and a single girl. Her mind appears occupied with thought, surely of some matter close to her.

Wading through the short grass, he greets her with his face bare. The girl looks at him like he were a stranger, so Samuel treats her like one.

He said, "Hi! Can I speak to you? I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

The girl smiles and nods her head, allowing her green ponytails to swing in the air. Her green eyes dilate momentarily in surprise of this mysterious stranger, though they returned to normal soon after.

She said, "Of course, mister! My name is Rebecca, an archer with Eliwood's army. Who do I have the pleasure of meeting with, a stranger with a funny accent?"

 _Funny accent? This is just how I talk._

Samuel said, "My name is...Samuel. I'm a college student at the University of Texas, though I'm not sure why I'm here..."

Samuel nearly gasps when those words leave his mouth. A small assortment of memories trickle through his brain, resulting in a minor backstory from a land far different from this.

Intrigued, Rebecca raises her brow. She said, "Texas? Is that a town in Bern?"

Samuel shrugged, unsure of what to say. He said, "I think it's somewhere down south. It's nowhere like this place, though. It's much hotter..."

"Anyway, what are you doing out here?"

Rebecca shifts her gaze back towards the waxing moon in the sky. It radiates with white moonlight, shrouding the land with its blessing. A cool breeze sends a sudden shiver down both of their physiques, though it makes the nearby lilies dance.

Rebecca said, "I was just thinking about my brother, Dan. He's somewhere out there...I know he has to be. I worry about him a lot...sometimes I dream of the day when I can finally take him home..."

 _Dan..._

That name rings a bell, but Samuel can't figure out why. He racks his brain deeper to procure an explanation, but as usual he fails in doing much other than straining his mind. He lets out an audible gasp...

"Ah..."

Alarmed, Rebecca said, "Oh my, are you okay?"

Samuel replied, "Yeah, I think so. Thanks. Sorry for worrying you."

Rebecca shakes her head, reassuring the young man from any guilt. Her smile sends a warm, fuzzy feeling down his gut...putting him at ease. Despite having only known this person for several minutes, Samuel already feels like she was a good friend of his.

Desiring to carry the conversation further, Rebecca said, "I can tell by your funny accent that you're not native from here. You remind me a little of our Lieutenant."

Perplexed, Samuel said, "Is this Lieutenant a good guy?"

Rebecca nodded, her cheeks vibrating red with admiration for her leader. She spoke about him like a student would towards their mentor. She said, "Yeah! He's so cool and concise with everything. Even though he should be giving the lords special treatment in terms of life on the road, he always makes sure the little guys like me are taken care of. I talk to him for advice from time to time too, and his wisdom has no bounds. I...I look up to him. We all do, even if most of the knights don't."

"Knights?"

Rebecca added, "Yeah, I think it comes down to a moral conflict. I always get the gist he was the leader of some rebellion back in his home country. Knights are the rule-abiding sort, so it's not surprising him and them wouldn't get along. Regardless, my friend Lowen likes him…"

"So…enough about the Lieutenant. What can you tell me about yourself?"

Although initially Samuel didn't know much about himself, gradually bits and pieces of his past sprung up in his mind like loose rubble in a sea wreck. Going off instinct, he answers Rebecca's question truthfully.

He said, "Well, I used to be a pretty big nerd. Went to high school and got good marks, played a lot of video games too. I got decently good and went to competitions often. After four years of living in my small hometown, I left to go to school in the big city, and outside of our campus' sports games I mostly kept to myself. My major was really hard, and I scarcely had a moment to go to parties. I was due to graduate in a year but—... oh I lost you."

Rebecca looks at Samuel blankly, treating that whole speel like he were the writer of a fanfiction novel. Absolutely nothing of what he'd just said made any sense to her, and Samuel could only sigh.

He said, "My apologies, it's a lot to take in at once. Mhm...okay. I think, I used to be a mercenary at some point. Much like yourself, perhaps?"

Composing herself, she said, "You? A mercenary? What did you fight for?"

"Huh?"

Thoroughly interested in her amnesiac acquaintance, she presses the issue further. She said, "You know, people don't just risk their lives for nothing. Many people fight to support their families, or to have money they could only dream of in their previous lives. Some, like myself, have other goals. I wish to use this opportunity fighting under my lord to travel the world and search for my brother, as fantastic as that may seem. You surely must have a reason and don't feel disappointed for admitting that its money. We all have to eat."

"Um..."

Samuel presses his finger onto his chin, his face wrinkling in thought. This girl had brought up a good point. What _exactly_ did he fight for? The little memories he had suggested that monetary compensation wasn't the primary reason for his business with war, though he can scarcely think of anything else.

 _!_

Like a dam holding back a torrent of water, his mind scrambles as another wave of memories came pouring in. While not containing the complete set of his past, it informed him of everything up to the point right before the final battle with Lundgren. Now holding some context needed for an answer, he responds to Rebecca the best way he could.

He said, "I...I think I did it for a girl. She treated me so well when I first met her, and I didn't have much else to do with my time but follow her. Secretly, though, I think I had more dubious motives. It doesn't seem right to me I'd just follow someone to war because they were nice to me. I..."

Samuel stops himself short, and a bead of sweat falls down the side of his face. A stray thought streak through his mind, disgusting him beyond comprehension.

 _Did I fight...expecting something from her in return? No...that's foolish. I would never doing like that...right?_

 _But...the money didn't pay well. The more I think about this, the more I think I used my position as tactician to unfairly pressure the princess. Afterward, I got so many injuries that Lyn felt it unethical to leave me be. Nobody else would have me, not with all the baggage I have._

 _By the Creator...what's wrong with me?! I...never fought under good intentions. I wanted something else..._

 _..._

"Samuel?"

 _!_

Samuel snaps out of his self-imposed bubble, and his heart skips a beat. Looking back at Rebecca, her green orbs expresses a mixture of confusion and concern.

He said, "Sorry, I just...I got to go."

He stands up and takes a step away from the young girl. She reaches out as if to grab him, but relents as he picked up speed. She watches as the young man disappears into the dark night, vanishing like a ghost...

Closing his eyes as he opened the door leading into the castle, Samuel silently thanked Rebecca for her time.

 _Thank you, Rebecca. Even though you didn't intend to, you let me realize a dream I'd been keeping for so long. For a short while, I had no memory of my traumatizing past. You gave me the opportunity to speak to someone normally for the first time. For that...you have sincere gratitude..._

 _Until tomorrow. Next time you see me, it won't be like this. I'll be the reliable lieutenant you're familiar with..._

 _Just as it should be..._

* * *

"Lyn?"

Samuel nudges his nomadic companion as she sleeps in her uncomfortable resting place. Her neck contorted awkwardly against a pillar of stone, likely stiffening it up. The sight of this did not bring Samuel much comfort, and so he opted to move her to a more suitable position.

Grabbing her, he intends to do just that. He brings her over to the bed he was just sleeping on and gently places her down with little hassle. Samuel feels gratitude for Lyn having spent the past few hours looking over him when no one else would and wanted to pay back the favor. He would be sleeping in her seat instead, better for her to have his bed than him...

"Samuel?"

A faint voice penetrates through the dark, and Samuel turns back to face it. It came from...Lyn. His efforts had woken her up.

He said, "Lyn, you're awake."

Rising from her sheets, Samuel spies a faint of green surrounded by black. He can only see her silhouette, but it confirms her presence.

She replied, "Yeah, you are too. I'm glad. Do...you remember who I am?"

"What?"

Lyn added, "Sorry, it's just Erk said when you woke up you'd have temporary memory loss. I wanted to be here to help you, but I guess I fell asleep. Forgive me for that...my weakness originates from the anxiety I have for my grandfather."

Lord Hausen. Samuel had never thought to consider his safety after the initial siege of Caelin, though he had bigger things to worry about. His fate came as a mystery to the tactician, but Lyn's voice implied something had gone seriously wrong."

Samuel said, "Oh no! Lord Hausen, is he okay?"

Lyn replied, "It's...complicated. He's alive, but his condition is frail. Somebody stabbed him, though the perpetrator's identity is unknown. I...don't know if he's going to make it. Part of the reason I came here was because I wanted to get my mind off him...but..."

"Sniff..."

Much to Sam's astonishment, Lyn begins to silently cry. In all the time that Samuel had known her, Lyn had cried in front of him in about as many instances as he can count with his left hand. That's why this scene came at an utter surprise to him, and he didn't know what to do...

 _Come on, Samuel. She supported you all these times. It's your turn._

Taking a deep breath, he walks over to Lyn and sits on top the bed with her. He puts his arm around her tightly, bringing her close...

A hint of hesitation flashes through Samuel's mind, but he ignores it. The conversation he'd just shared with Rebecca felt a like a rock drowning him in a sea of guilt, making him want to grovel down on his knees and beg Lyn for her forgiveness. But...that would complicate things further than they should be. Samuels must keep those emotions deep in the darkest depths of his heart, lest Lyn be allowed to fall in a pit of despair alone...

No, he won't let that happen. He of all people know how it's like to be in a solitary episode of depression, and it's something he wouldn't wish on his greatest enemy much less a good soul like Lyn. He'll willingly add these emotions of insecurity and guilt to his ever increasing pile of darkness. Lyn deserves happiness, even if he doesn't...

Lyn said, "Sam? What do y—"

"Shh, it's okay. Just let it go."

He lightly presses Lyn's head against her shoulder, and for a moment silence enveloped them. Eventually, tears soak the young man's cloak. The warmth of Samuel's body melts down the glacier she'd been keeping up inside her heart, and she reveals to him her most vulnerable state.

She clings herself to her beloved, her arms shaking as a river of tears streamed from her face. She resembled a small child, and although this astonishes Samuel, he remains committed to being here for her. He likely looked worse than this at some point, so there's no shame here. Even the toughest warriors like Lyn need a good cry.

Hugging her gently, he whispered comforting words into her ear...

"It's okay..."

"I'll be here for you..."

"It's going to be all right..."

"Your grandfather's a fighter, he'll get through this..."

They pass through the night in each other's embrace. Eventually, Lyn calms down, subsiding into a blissful slumber inside Samuel's shoulder. Samuel follows suit, content with having recovered his memories and a newfound sense of love for his significant other. His arm protectively wrapped around her collar, they snooze away over the cot Samuel had woken up in nearly an hour before...

The moon shines brilliantly in the sky, its light basking over the land of Elibe. What else does this land have in store for our heroes? Only the Creator knows.

* * *

 **About one mile north, in an abandoned cottage near the mountains...**

Ephidel shifts his gaze around his impromptu hideout. Cracked furniture lay disheveled around the dirt floor, its integrity compromised from decades of neglect. The walls stood splintering with wood shavings, their finish since disintegrated from the elements. An open door frame lets in a cool gush of wind, drifting Ephidel's hair under its influence. Ephidel stands idly where the home's living room once stood, and it is here where he will perform his duty to his master.

Below his feet lies an incarcerated baby bunny and a knife. The bunny squirms inside its little cage, its eyes scanning the room for danger and its mother. Its mother existed hundreds of miles away on the Dragon's Gate, and it was there where it waited to unwillingly fulfill its purpose. As is its child.

Taking the knife, Ephidel observes it to determine its sharpness. He places his finger right above the blade, allowing it to cut his skin. Crimson flows onto the floor, and all the morph the can do is nod.

He said, "Excellent. Everything is ready."

Ephidel opens the cage and firmly grasps onto the beast's collar. The bunny squirms in terror for its impending death, bellowing a frightening shriek into the air. Ephidel stares at it with the same gaze he shared with Lord Hausen, the gaze of a cold-hearted killer.

He muttered, "The bond between a mother and its child goes far beyond the capabilities of magic. We will use this to our own ends. With your death, your mother will shriek in mourning inside its cage at the Dragon's Gate. There, an attendee will inform Nergal of the return of his second failure..."

Ephidel hacks the bunny's head off. Blood spurts onto the grayed walls, painting them with a new coat of dull crimson. The air goes silent as the bunny's cries cease to exist...

"Samuel...you will pay for your disobedience. We will strike you in the place we know is vulnerable. Your niece will become the harbinger of your own defeat."


	66. Addendum 2

**Addendum 2**

 **By SodiumChloride12**

* * *

Sorry to be writing this so early in the week, but it's 5am in Texas time and I just couldn't wait to get these thoughts out of mind. I swear it won't take long.

Okay, so I decided to spend this weekend reading over my earlier chapters to make sure my canon is straight, and well I realized something. There's no sugar coating it...it's really really bad. My writing that is. The main problem is my past addiction to passive tense verbage, and this made my earlier work read very stale. Especially my first few chapters. In case y'all don't believe me, just go back and see how many time I used the word "was". Yeah...

I got my first bad review earlier last week, and although I don't agree with it, I can understand where that reader was coming from. My passive verbage didn't do well in trying to stave off the filler feel from those chapters. I need to go back and fix it. But here's the problem. It's a lot of work...

By my own estimates, everything up to Chapter 35 needs some type of work. That's over a quarter million words I have to scan through myself. With that being said, I don't think I'm in the position to leave it as it is. Nobody is going to see my latter chapters if the earlier ones shoos them away. I feel fortunate to have the fan base I already have, though I also suspect it could've been much larger had I not gone through those growing pains.

Right now, I only retain 20% of new visitors who view my story. Most of those leave by Chapter 3.

I will post the next chapter this week, as with the next. Right now, I'm about a week ahead in writing, though initially I wanted to use this added time to write the next chapter for my side project _90 days._ Obviously, if I'm not going to be able to write if I'm spending that time editing. This goes the same with the SOMAB. I will not be posting a new chapter for _90 days_ for some time, and I suspect I may have to take some time off after I run out of material for SOMAB. I need to get this done, and if it means I have to take a one, two, or even a month hiatus. It is what it is, and I need to prepare myself to hunker down for editing work.

Other than that, I started a new community for fanfictions in the Elibe universe. If you're interested in us archiving your story (or in becoming staff), feel free to PM me.

Thank you! I hope y'all have a great day!


	67. Prelude to Badon

**Chapter 61: Prelude to Badon**

 **By SodiumChloride12, derived from Fire Emblem, owned by Nintendo.**

 **A/N: Well, I was going to wrap up this arc with two chapters, but I realized I needed three so I could wrap up some loose ends. Next week we're going back to Badon!**

 **This chapter is going to be less about fighting and Samuel's inner turmoil and more about the relationship shared between Lyn and Samuel. There's going to be less of a spotlight on them for a while because of...future circumstances. After this arc I've written a two-chapter tournament arc with the Valor story still in the works. Things are about to go south fast in Valor, so get ready!**

 **I hit 80 subs this week! My numbers keep on growing, and it makes me so happy! Thank you for the continued support!**

* * *

 **Early morning...**

The sun rises from the sky and basks the Lycian plain with a blanket of warm light. It shakes the world with life, propelling the fauna to rise from their slumber. The birds chirp as they tidy up their nests, their wings wet with morning dew. Deer frolic through the meadows and forests, accompanied by a caravan of foxes, rabbits, and other small woodland creatures. Otters look to their dams for signs of damage, afterwards taking to the nearby river for a morning meal. The air is as peaceful as peaceful could be, and Castle Caelin shares this same sentiment.

A lone robin flies over to an ordinary window high in a tower of Castle Caelin. He pecks and wanders curiously on the stone stool, eventually looking through the fogged glass. His eyes dance around the room like an energized jumping bean, though he doesn't notice the couple sleeping soundly on a plain-looking cot.

The light unveils the shroud of mystery surrounding this residential room. The same stone that makes up the castle's walls compose the walls and floor, though this material proves much more polished. It shines faintly against the light pressing against it, complimenting the white paint covering it. Small furniture like chairs, cots, and drawers neatly huddle by the corners. A lone medicine desk made of mahogany contains a plethora of vials containing mysterious liquid, likely of unknown purpose...

"Zzzz..."

A nearby cot bends against the weight of its two inhabitants, the wooden chassis resembling an overburdened mule with its cloth tearing at the ends. A young couple sleeps peacefully in juxtaposition the straining cot underneath them.

"Snork?"

Samuel ceases his smooth breathing, no longer matching the rhythmic harmony initiated by the green-haired girl on his shoulder. He opens his eyes, shifting them first around the room and then towards the graceful display of humanity clinging on top of him. She still wears her characteristic Sacaen outfit with its bright blue pattern, though it contains minor tears from yesterday's battle. The lone exception comes in Lyn's hair tie, which has mysteriously disappeared. This means nothing keeps its long, river-like strands from covering every inch of Samuel's lower body.

Feeling groggy, Samuel reaches over for his watch on the nearby end table. Doing this makes him feel a little nostalgic, as in his previous life he used to spend every morning reaching for his phone to check the time. He reads his silver device and breathes a sigh of relief when he realizes it's still early morning...

 _Thank Elimine...we didn't skip breakfast..._

Keeping his upper body unmoved, he returns the watch to its previous location. He ponders about closing his eyes and sleeping for another few hours, but doesn't feel the need to. He got some of the best sleep of his life last night…

 _I feel...so refreshed. I just want to snuggle up with Lyn and stay here forever..._

 _..._

Tap.

Tap Tap.

Tap Tap Tap Tap Tap Tap.

 _For the love of—_

Samuel reluctantly wriggles himself out of Lyn's grasp, who continues to snooze away due to being a heavy sleeper. Annoyed, he walks over to the source of the pecking sound. His culprit comes in the form of a small robin repeatedly ramming his beak against the glass of a solid window...

 _Huh, neat…_

He observes its red chest, an indicator of the creature's gender. The male bird has its eyes transfixed on a wriggling worm who'd taken up shop inside the pot of a small succulent plant. It follows the worm no matter where it goes, whether it be inside the safety of its clay home, or basking on the outside nearer to the heat of the sun. Black dirt covers the entire worm's body, which seems oblivious towards the attention of man and bird alike.

Samuel whispered, "So this is what you want. Bummer, I can't blame you for wanting a morning meal."

Loosening the bolt of the window's frame, he allows the bird to enter inside. It flutters and jolts around the room like a pinball, eventually resting as it dives beak first into the dirt of the potted plant. Its weight nearly knocks over the small plant, but Samuel breathes a sigh of relief when the robin emerges from the earth with the worm firmly inside its beak...

Before returning to the nature outside, the robin leaves one last look back towards its observer. The expression of gratitude causes a stir inside the young tactician, and with one final flap of its wings, it disappears, never to be seen again.

 _That was...cool._

In a way, Samuel can't help but compare the robin to himself. It carried such a weak body, yet on the inside it sported strength several times over what's expected. He wonders how he'll fare when he reaches the peak of his strength; when his sword skills, magic prowess, and mana capacity have all improved. There's still some time left before he can grasp onto that state, but sometimes he takes solace in fantasizing about it.

 _A power fantasy. Heh...that should be beneath me._

Samuel has a lot of powerful enemies, all of which contain strength superior to his own. These people range from bastards like Nergal and Ephidel, to folks who just don't like his guts such as Kent and Marcus. Sometimes, he just wishes he could beat their faces to prove whose boss...but alas. Professionalism forces him to at least fake a working relationship with the latter two, while distance restricts any conflict with the former. This also ignores the fact that all four could likely kill Samuel without much effort on their part.

Samuel shakes his head as he sits back down on the cot. Perhaps he's discounting himself too much. His muscles are much stronger than they were before, but relative to the rest of the army he stands right around the middle of the pack. The only people he can consistently beat in arm wrestles are mages and speed-reliant myrmidons. In addition, although his magic has improved substantially since his earlier days, his potency lags behind every other magic user in the army, the sole exception being Serra. Even then, should they end up in a scuffle, Samuel wouldn't bother to use magic. He'd use his sword instead.

As a unit, Samuel doesn't have much going for him. Every attribute of his are either average or unremarkable. His only outlier is his ridiculous resistance to magic, though that only comes into play when Samuel duels other mages. Samuel hopes his possession of the Voidwalker ability will propel him into heights never seen before, as unlikely as that may be.

He thinks back at the vision he had with Ephidel. Neither the girl, the morph, nor the injuries were real. However, he wonders if a kernel of truth hid beneath that schizophrenic episode. The way he vanished and then reappeared in a spot just out of the way of Ephidel's magical attack...was that how his Voidwalker ability worked? Will he be able to expertly teleport around his enemies like some overconfident comic book hero?

Only time will tell...

 _!_

Suddenly, Samuel hears a disturbance come from the woman he'd just shared a bed with. Lyn rises from her resting place, her eyes red with lingering drowsiness...

"..."

The two share a moment of silence as Lyn takes the time to gradually realize her situation. Samuel can only look on with hesitation as he understood what was about to happen.

Lyn's eyes shoot wide open with shock. She throws the covers over herself in shame and speaks in a panicked tone. She said, "Samuel! Did you know what we just did?"

Samuel replied, "Yeah, we slept together, didn't we?"

Lyn balks at Samuel's casual treatment of what they had just done. She said, "B-But this is the third time we shared a bed together! No, this is really bad. Really really bad. I don't think I'm ready yet!"

?

Lyn stands up from the cot and anxiously paces around the room. Sweat drips from her forehead, and she avoids making eye contact with Samuel.

She added, "What am I going to do? I'm only nineteen...I can't..."

Flabbergasted, Samuel asked, "Wait, what's wrong? What makes this time any different from the last few instances? Heck, we've slept together four times, if I'm not wrong."

Lyn shakes her head, her mind still preoccupied with some unspoken devastation. She said, "No...oh. My apologies, Samuel. I never explained to you what this means. Look, I know how you are. You value your freedom above everything else...but my culture has rules. Rules that dictate what I can and cannot do."

She comes over to Samuel and firmly wraps her hand of his. Her expression swiftly transforms into one that is serious, if not sincere. Another layer of confusion washes over the young man, and he listens to her next few words carefully.

She said, "Samuel, every child in Sacae are taught from a young age of the tales of Hanon. She's one of the Eight Legends that saved humanity during the Scouring, and she's considered the mother of Sacae. One tale is of her engagement, in which she chose her husband by sharing a bed three times with her lover. Henceforth every tribe in Sacae followed her lead, and this method of engagement continues on today. Samuel, by my Sacaen tradition, we are now considered engaged…"

Lyn shifts her gaze away from her beloved, who is suddenly feeling a bit uneasy…

"I...I should've told you before succumbing to my weakness. I couldn't think straight...I..."

"Samuel...?"

Samuel's eyes roll to the back of his head. His body sways, landing onto the ground with a deafening thud.

"Samuel!"

 **...**

Samuel rubs his bruised forehead as he drinks a cup of warm green tea. The beverage sets him at ease as his senses return to him. Sitting firmly on the cot, he readies himself for the situation at hand.

Facing Lyn, he said, "So, I have to marry you..."

Lyn nods, her face flustered like a cherry. Talking about marriage didn't make her anymore comfortably than it did for Samuel.

She replied, "Yes, in the eyes of my culture we are technically engaged now. I'm...sorry for letting it all on you so quickly. I didn't think you'd faint."

 _Marriage..._

Samuel lets that thought sink in. Marriage is a commitment made between two people, intertwining them together for as long as the pact stayed intact. In some cultures, marriage is said to bind two souls for eternity, far past their mortal lifespans. Samuel's catholic parents had taught him to view marriage as not only a promise to his beloved but also to their deity. To him, marriage represents the antithesis to his freedom-loving ethos...

And it absolutely terrifies him...

Besides, another layer of doubt complicates things. Samuel understands more than anyone else that he carries a lot of baggage, whether it be his injury history, his frail mind, or the custody of a dragonborn adolescent. Samuel doesn't want to make himself a burden to anyone, much less to Lyn...

Samuel said, "Lyn, listen to me closely. This marriage, must not be allowed to happen."

"What?"

Lyn takes a step back, astonished by what Samuel has just said. Her eyes reflect a mixture of shock and disappointment, though Samuel only notices the former.

He said, "Yes. Surely there has to be some way to annul the marriage. I mean, this _can't_ be the first time two people slept together three times in a row. The Lorca wasn't exactly a free love society."

Lyn nods, ignoring the knot steadily tightening around her stomach. Quickly realizing her beloved's intentions, she tries to ease the situation anyway she can.

She said, "You'd...be right. However, to do that I will have to do some research into Sacaen law. We have some relevant texts at the library..."

The Library of Caelin is the epicenter of all the canton's knowledge. Nestled deep in the west wing of the castle, books of all sorts take residence within its dusty shelves. Lyn imagines herself wading up and down its spiraling staircase to find the obscure text she desires, a boing task for sure. To top it all off, the only other person who could help her out, the librarian, fled once she caught word of the approaching army. Finding these texts will be very tedious, and Lyn doesn't look forward to committing the time to finding them.

Samuel said, "Let's go together then. I'll help you out."

Samuel grabs her hand and nudges her to follow him. However, resistance in his grasp stifles this endeavor. Lyn anchors herself onto the ground, and Samuel realizes something preoccupies his beloved's mind. Something deep...

"Lyn...?"

"..."

Silence fills the air along with a thick cloud of tension. Confused, Samuel tries to gaze into Lyn's eyes, but she proves unwilling to reciprocate. She looks away towards an idle corner, matching her body language with an aura of displeasure. Her face gradually matches the redness of a dying sun.

Samuel asked, "Lyndis, is something wrong?"

Laying her head low, she replied, "I'll go it alone."

Baffled, he said, "What? Are you sure about that? I've done research before and it's not something you want to do alone. Let me hel—"

"I SAID I'LL GO IT ALONE!"

Samuel watches in silence as Lyn angrily struts out of the room. He searches his mind for answers, but really the answer should've been obvious to all but the most oblivious of human beings. The combined emotions from her grandfather's hospitalization, the weight of her role as a princess, and now the denial of one of her life's goals weighs down on her heavily, and Samuel should have understood that. He knows her better than anybody else, the sole contender being Florina.

Instead, he only stands there in bewilderment with the density of a neutron star…

* * *

After that travesty of an early morning, Samuel finds it wise to meet with his friend Erk. They meet at the castle's chapel, an undamaged reminder of the splendor Castle Caelin once had…

The chapel is a small, but expertly crafted building built into the third floor of the keep. Its floors are adorned with a repeating diamond pattern, its wooden surface gleaming with a fine glistening finish. The walls are flat and composed of cobblestone, though several minor arches branch off them towards the center of the chapel. A single tabernacle stands on a table at the chapel's end, taking the form of a semicircle. Three large stained windows surround the tabernacle, letting in a warm light that makes its golden frame glow. A painting of Saint Elimine stands on a pike fixated to the floor, and its eyes seem to follow the two mages regardless of which vantage point they took.

The painting reminds Samuel of an old wooden sculpture of the Virgin Mary that he saw as a kid during Mass. Its eyes followed him the same way this painting did, though the sculpture's antics are likely a subject of his childhood imagination. In contrast, the painting _definitely_ moves its eyes within its canvas prison, and it's not because of Samuel's eyes are playing with him. Erk notices it, too.

Feeling uneasy, he said, "What type of magic do you need to make this happen? I swear..."

Samuel chuckles and punches his friend on the shoulder. He teased, "Oh, come on, you should be used to women looking at you. You've got like what, two maidens now?"

Erk shoots Samuel a death glare. Silently aware of his friend's influences over his love life, he gives him a piece of his mind. He said, "That...is none of your business. Aren't you too young to be squabbling with my affairs? I can't help but think you're finding entertainment at my expense."

Erk has a sharp mind. He knows Samuel as someone who doesn't shy away from some cheap laughs, especially if they are directed at him. To Samuel, humbling uptight mages like him brings a lot of joy.

Shrugging his shoulders, he said, "Is it, though? I mean, now you have the choice between not one, but _two_ people I've found to be your type. You should be thanking me."

Erk scoffed, "Thanking you? Excuse me, but I wouldn't exactly call Serra my type."

Erk thinks about the hellish weeks spent under Serra's fold. The mere thought sends a chill down his spine, especially since she'll likely give him an earful when they inevitably meet again later today. If there's anyone he does not want to give his heart to, it's her. Even so, Samuel holds a perspective different from that of his friend.

Samuel said, "Oh, that's what you think. Yet, I always find you and her spending time with each other. Her bratty demeanor aside, I am certain you find something attractive about her. Y'all are about the same age, anyway."

"Eh..."

Erk stammers, subconsciously confirming Samuel's suspicions. This makes the latter crack a wide, sinister smile.

He said, "You like her...don't you? You don't want to admit it, but until recently she's been the only woman who showed even a hint of interest in you. You probably would've already asked her out if Priscilla didn't come along and complicate things."

Samuel neglects to mention that Priscilla only started becoming more aggressive _after_ being encouraged by himself. However, he need not reveal such insignificant details now. That can wait when they are much older and have some alcohol in their system.

Erk takes a step back and brushes his back against the wall. Surprised, he said, "How are you reading my mind? Are you a demon?"

Samuel replied, "Nah. Just an _incredibly_ observant friend. Besides, have you made your decision yet?"

"My decision?!"

Erk ruffles up his hair and sits down on one of pews in front of the tabernacle. Laying his head down, he resembles an outlaw on the run with his messy hair and dust-covered boots.

He muttered, "I...I don't know what to do. Both of them...have their advantages. Priscilla is so nice and sweet, but I feel like she masks her emotions behind the persona of a noble lady. I know Serra will always be sincere with me, but she lies to make herself look good. I don't know what to do..."

Samuel said, "Well, you don't have to decide now. We're still young, and this is when you make all the mistakes you try not to make when you're older. In the meantime, I think the only thing that will make this better is another addition to the harem. What do you think?"

Erk opens his mouth wide open. After overcoming the initial shock factor, his face turns red with anger.

"Mother—"

Samuel cuts him off mid swear word. This story has to keep its "T" rating, and it only allows each chapter one swear word. It's best not to use it here.

Samuel said, "I get it...I'm being a bit too pushy."

Erk replied, "Just...don't call it a harem. You make me feel uncomfortable when you call it that..."

"Anyway, there are other things I'd like to talk about other than my love life. Samuel, how is the medication feeling?"

Samuel silently grasps the flask of magically infused tea in his pocket. It sloshes around like a rough patch of salty sea.

He said, "It feels great. My emotions have been much more tame lately. You're an expert potion maker, Erk."

Erk shakes his head, trying to forget about the weeks spent manufacturing this potion. He replied, "I...don't flatter me. That thing has side effects that will only get worse since I changed the formula. Tell me, have you noticed...anything odd?"

"What do you mean?"

Erk continued, "You already know this, but the potion makes your blood thinner, suppresses distant memories, and above everything else, lowers your ability to read other's emotions. This can lead to an increased risk of agitation with others if you're not careful. Have you spoken to anyone prior to speaking with me?"

Samuel rests his finger underneath chin in thought. This morning all he did was wake up and have breakfast. For breakfast, he had the privilege of eating with Rebecca and Lowen to no issues. However, something did occur before that...something of interest.

He said, "I think I made Lyn upset today."

Erk replied, "What? What did you do?"

Samuel spends the next few minutes explaining to him everything that happened that morning. He omits the part of him and Lyn sleeping together, but Erk implies it based on the context of the situation. Thankfully, Erk is never one to gossip (unlike himself), so there's no harm in him knowing.

Erk said, "So...she got mad because you weren't cozy to the idea of you two getting married?"

Laying his head against the cobblestone wall, Samuel lets some heat expel from his head. He replied, "Yeah, I mean...my parents got married young. It caused a lot of problems even if they didn't admit it..."

Samuel's parents were staunch Catholics, and as such marriage was viewed unbreakable in the eyes of the church. In Catholicism, once two people got married, neither divorce nor estrangement can end the intimate pact (only death may). Although at first their love seemed unbreakable like the vow they took together, over time that feeling shared between them waned. By the time Samuel and his brother entered middle school, his two parents had already separated, resulting in a divorce in all but name. His two parents remained bitter towards one another for the rest of his life, although Samuel feels some of this pent up aggression would've evaporated had they been allowed to see other people.

Samuel does not loathe his Catholic upbringing, although nowadays he considers himself an agnostic. He carries many values taught to him in sunday school close to his heart, with the sacrament of marriage being one of them. Although his thought is complicated to analyze, in summary it can be shortened to a brief motto...

 _If you're going to get married, at least do it with someone you'll know will grow with you._

If Samuel were to get married (though currently he doesn't), he'd only be willing to do it if and _only_ if that person were 100%, without a doubt, going to stay with him his entire life. That's a tall requirement for anyone to fulfill, and he knows that. Samuel truly thinks he will stay a bachelor for the foreseeable future. In his perspective, that's a benefit. If his mom taught him anything, it's that single men have less responsibility than married ones.

 _More responsibility isn't what I need right now..._

Even so, not everyone shares the same views as him...

Erk said, "Samuel, has it ever occurred to you that Lyn might view marriage as a major goal of hers?"

Samuel's face wrinkles at his friend's inquiry. He perceives Lyn as having a fiercely independent personality, and this made him assume that she shares the same view of marriage as he. It never occurred to him that the opposite might be true, though the side effects of the potion might partially be to blame. Regardless, the result is the same. Lyn is upset with him, and it's his fault.

Samuel said, "I...did not think of that. That is a very sound theory, and it explains everything. But I'm certain I don't want to get married yet. I'm much too young, and I don't even want to consider it until—"

"Samuel, let's be real here."

"Huh?"

Erk pauses to take a deep breath. Reluctant to speak his peace, he speaks with an anxious tone. "Samuel, I spoke to Priscilla earlier. She said your body was in the worst state she'd _ever_ seen in her life. Signs of brain trauma, bone fractures, and lacerated organs. Evidence of scarring everywhere. By the grace of the Creator, Samuel. You understand that you don't have much time on this earth, right? You can't just bide your time forever. Besides, who's going to take care of Laniakea when you die?"

"..."

Although Samuel understands the notion of his own mortality, hearing it come from the tongue of another person drives that fact home. His heart skips a beat, and he wonders what will happen once this whole war is over. He'll have spent a colossal amount of effort in trying to get Lani back, but for what? For him to die in ten years and leave her alone again while she's only about to enter her teens? That's not something he can allow on good faith, but then again, what other choice does he have? He can't expect Lyn to be Lani's guardian in his stead. The last woman that could've possibly done that rejected him...

Samuel said, "Oh my God. What do I do? I don't...I can't..."

Erk said, "Samuel, you need to spend some time thinking about this. If you lose her, you might not get anyone else again. You need to seriously consider your goals in life, and if necessary make a compromise."

Samuel lowers his head and covers it with his hands. His mind buzzes around like an active beehive, and he spends the next few minutes thinking about what Erk had just told him...

...

Erk said, "Hey man, if you want we can talk about something else. I can tell this is weighing on you a lot."

Samuel shakes his head, coming into an understanding of his situation. He said, "I'd like that...but you're right. I need to think about this, but it's not realistic for me to decide today. I'll give it some time."

Erk nods and then extracts a notepad from his pack. It's covered with a blanket of different black markings, all of which composed some arbitrary calculations.

He said, "Anyway, I have the calculations you asked me to do earlier. All I'm missing is your mana. How full is your Tear now?"

Samuel grabs the blue jewel hanging from his neck. Observing the blue light illuminating from its surface, he makes an approximation.

He said, "It's about a third full."

 _!_

Erk nearly drops his notepad, and for a second he can hardly catch his breath. This surprises his friend, though he keeps himself silent out of courtesy.

Erk said, "Are...you serious? Samuel, can you give me your stat scroll?"

Samuel obliges to his friend's request, retrieving it from his bag. Handing it to Erk, his eyes reflect an expression of normalcy.

He said, "Here, it's nothing to be impressed with."

 _!_

Erk looks at the magic stat and nearly passes out. At this point, Samuel too becomes interested in his own strength, and he presses Erk to reveal what is going on.

He said, "Erk! What's with my stat scroll? Is it good?"

Erk simply looks up and points at the magic stat...

He said, "Samuel...despite all the setbacks you've suffered, like your initial lack of mana and dismal magician constant, you've finally caught up with me. Your magic power is reading at 9 like mine..."

* * *

Lyn frowns as she stares at a single spot of red on her index finger. The inconvenience brings her much disdain towards the task she was doing, even if the wound is just a paper cut...

Lyn is deep within the hallway-like shelves of the Library. The Library is a moderately sized place holding all of Caelin's knowledge in subjects like math, science, magic, and law. A thin veil of dust lines the thick green carpet underneath her feet, making her cough every time she moves a significant distance. A large chandelier lies dormant in the face of enormous windows that let in the bright morning light, its candles having been undisturbed for several days. The walls stand flat like a box, their surfaces hosting an assortment of marble busts, graying paintings, and a fine coat of brown paint. Replicating a labyrinth, books cover every square foot of the area, though study tables inhabits its center like the eye of a storm.

Lingering at the law section of the library, Lyn wonders why no one in the Lausian army had bothered to touch this place. Perhaps they found the dull books and old paintings not worthwhile to loot, but then again she doubted any of them would bother to go through the trouble of wading through this library. During peacetime, the library scarcely found visitors besides the occasional curious servant as newcomers often got lost. Fortunately for her, Lyn had visited the library often in the past because this isolated place felt like a gratifying escape from her royal life. She could disappear for hours at a time, with neither Kent nor any of the knights able to find her...

 _!_

"Lyn?"

Lyn nearly gets a heart attack when a polite, feminine voice pokes through the stuffy air. Turning her head, she finds a familiar friend peeking past the aged shelves of a nearby bookcase.

It's Florina. She still wears the Pegasus armor she sported the day before, but with the difference being a sling she connected around her right shoulder. Apparently, she attempted to duel an armored knight yesterday when the man grabbed her lance and shattered a bone in her elbow. Bone injuries weren't something the clerics couldn't handle, but they'd drained their mana while treating everyone's injuries. Florina won't be able to treat her wound properly until later tonight, so in the meantime the sling serves as a stopgap measure.

Calming herself, Lyn said, "Florina? What are you doing in here? How did you find me?"

Florina replied, "Well...I wanted to find you. So...I did."

 _!_

Astonishment washes through Lyn's veins. She could hardly believe it.

 _Can this girl find me regardless of where I go? By Elimine, what secrets does she hold in that small body of hers?_

Looking over at the book she had in her possession, Florina said, "Lyn? Why are you holding a book with a person in the front? What does that cover say? H-Homunculi...and...their...—"

"Florina!"

Lyn closes her book shut. Her curiosity had gotten the better of her and sidetracked her pursuits. The book Florina spies pertains to the...exploratory research of the homunculi anatomy. Her intentions a mystery, such things are important to consider when trying to do...certain things involving a family...

 _Or rather, making one..._

Lyn said, "This book is...not important to what I'm trying to find here. Florina, since you're here, do you think you can help me out with something?"

Always pleased to assist her best friend, Florina gives a child-like smile. She forgets about the potentially embarrassing subject of the book and throws herself at Lyn's disposal.

She said, "Yeah! Of course! What do you need...?"

 **...**

The friends took the next few hours searching every inch of the library for texts pertaining to Sacaen law. They toiled away through the labyrinth, searching every nook and cranny like detectives trying to solve the crime. If Lyn took on the role of Sherlock Holmes, then Florina filled in as her respective Watson…

As the sun high in the sky dips into the horizon, the two makeshift detectives consider their progress.

Lyn said, "Florina, have you found anything?"

Looking through the papers with her good arm, she replied, "Nothing mentioning the Avenger's Law. I just see a bunch of records regarding old wars and grazing disputes. I'm sorry..."

Lyn shakes her head. She replied, "No, that's to be expected. We've only searched about a third of library today, but we don't have the time to come back tomorrow."

Florina replied, "Yeah, Lord Eliwood wants to take the army to Badon, right? I only know of what Kent told us."

Earlier that day, the lords had a meeting to discuss of actions to take from there. After getting an important briefing from an Ostian spy, they decided the best course of action would be to go to the Black Fang's headquarters at the Dread Isle...

Lyn said, "Yes, we will be going to the Dread Isle. We've discovered that Marquess Pharae is under the custody of the Black Fang."

Florina raises her brow, intrigued by that vaguely familiar name. She said, "The Black Fang? Isn't that a guild of assassins? What do they want with him?"

Lyn replied, "I...haven't the faintest idea. The spy told us there's some grand conspiracy to overthrow Ostia involving him, Marquess Santaruz, and Lord Darin. I'm not sure if I believe it, but all signs point to the Black Fang pulling the strings, or rather, a mysterious man named Nergal."

 _Nergal..._

Where has Lyn heard that name before? She feels like she has, but perhaps someone had mentioned it to her in some bygone time. The name fills her with dread, and senses this person has nothing but sinister intentions welled up in his heart.

Florina feels a similar chill travel down her spine. Keeping her arm close, she said, "I don't like this man. I don't know him, but I feel I already know he's a bad man."

Lyn agrees, tossing away another scroll of unimportant content. She said, "We need to be wary of this man..."

"Yeah..."

"..."

Awkward silence fills the air, the result of the depressing nature of the subject matter. Florina searches her mind for a way to continue on the conversation, and eventually she finds a branch to latch onto.

She said, "Hey Lyn, can I ask you a question?"

"Sure."

"Why does this mean so much to you? I mean, I get you can't see your grandfather, but you're going through a lot to find this text..."

Lyn's grandfather lies comatose in his chamber. There, four healers directly from the capital encapsulates him in a bubble of light magic, working day and night to keep him alive. His life is at the brink of being lost, and should any one of the healers lose the smallest bit of concentration, Lord Hausen will die. That's why nobody, not even Lyn, are allowed to visit him...

Remembering her grandfather makes Lyn's head droop. She had wanted to see him this morning, but the magistrate forbade her for the after mentioned reasons. He is all the family he had left, and she doesn't know what she will do if he expires. That's why it's all the more important she hangs on to the relationships she already has. The ones with Florina and Samuel being paramount to that goal.

Lyn said, "I'm...trying to reconcile two things that are a really important to me. My culture and my heart."

Curious, Florina tilts her head. She hadn't known Lyn to be romantically involved with anyone besides Samuel. She knows of the arrangement with Eliwood...but has her best friend eloped with someone behind her back?

He asked, "Lyn...what do you mean? Are you seeing someone?"

 _!_

Lyn's eyes spring wide open. She never told Florina about her relationship with the Lieutenant, though she had planned to do so, eventually. If she ever wants to tell her about him, now is the time to do it.

Sighing, Lyn said, "Very well, Florina, it's a long story..."

 **...**

Darkness fills the space in the Library of Caelin. Crickets sing their cries of nocturnal splendor and warm orange light illuminates select patches of shelves inside. The black shadows of Lyn and Florina dance while under influence of the vivid yellow flames, though their people stand relatively still.

Florina said, "Wow, that's a lot of stuff. But, do you really think he's the right one for you?"

Lyn takes a long, thoughtful breath. She looks out towards the moon visible past one of the high-rising windows and lets its light relax her mind.

She said, "I think so. He may have his faults, but he's the sweetest, most unselfish man I've ever known. He's so smart and refined, not to mention his natural accent that just tickles my ears. He never makes me feel inferior for being a woman, and that's not something shared among many of his peers."

Florina replied, "Well...I suppose. However, you can't ignore the fact he's a wanted man. He has the death penalty in several countries and cantons, including Caelin. Do you really want to give your heart to a fugitive? Especially someone who doesn't share your goal of marriage?"

 _This marriage...must not be allowed to happen._

Those words echo through her consciousness, cutting through her heart like a knife. She spends a moment to consider her answer...

She said, "I...I understand. But I feel I can't just leave him alone. He's done so much for me."

Florina shook her head in disapproval. She replied, "No. Look, Lyn...you don't owe him anything. He willingly put himself in danger because of a choice _he_ made, and he received compensation for it. He could have left at any point, yet _he_ didn't. These were all choices _you_ did not have any sway over. Don't feel like he's entitled to you...because he isn't."

Florina surprises Lyn by grabbing her hands and placing it near her breastplate. Her grasp feels warm against Lyn's cold skin, and she can tell she truly means what she spoke.

She said, "Lyn, you're my best friend. I want you to be happy. _We_ want you to be happy. Me, the knights, and everyone else lifted up our arms against Lundgren so you could see your grandfather again. Your happiness is all we want for you...so please. Please lead a life that makes you happy. Don't just give it away..."

Florina's sincerity strikes a chord within the young princess. She's right. Her friends had spent blood and iron to secure her happiness. She shouldn't just throw it away for some man. She needs to consider her own desires more closely, even if it means being selfish.

Coming to terms with herself, Lyn closes her eyes…

She said, "I...I know what I have to do now. I will speak to him about my goals in life, and if he doesn't want to be apart of it...then it's time to look elsewhere. The sooner I stop chasing this dream I have with him, the sooner I'll recover from it."

Florina nods and firmly wraps her friend in a hug. Lyn holds back the temptation to cry, but she reciprocates the best way she can. At moments like these, she truly appreciates her friend's kindness. No matter what happens in her life, Florina will be with her always...

"Oh?"

Florina notices a lone stroll idle on an unseen corner. Its green binding tells her its contents are in regard to Sacae, and its purple stamp of law. This...might be interesting.

She said, "Hey Lyn. Have we read that one yet?"

Lyn shakes her head and releases herself from Florina's grasp to pick up the scroll. Opening it, it only takes about three seconds for her to realize what it pertains to.

She smiles. Yes...this scroll turns out to be very interesting.

* * *

 **Nearby, on a hilltop overlooking Castle Caelin...**

A red-robed figure looks over the silent facade of Castle Caelin. His clothes cover the entirety of his body, though some parts of his wrinkled face poke through the canvas. He has a mysterious, draining aura about him, though his mute demeanor gives no hints to his identity...

A single morph lingers nearby on the tall grass. He bows respectfully before his superior, his long black hair waving through the wind. He shifts his gaze towards his master, a pair of gold meeting another matching the same color.

He said, "I have located and deposited the scroll like you have asked. The young man is in fine form as well."

The master observes his subordinate's shady figure, looking for any signs of damage within his assassin's outfit. Thankfully there are none, and he silently nods.

The morph said, "I see. Well, I will continue to monitor them both as you have requested. I will take my leave..."

The morph does just that, leaving the red-robed figure alone in his thoughts. His pale face squeaks out a smile...

 _Yes, everything is going perfectly to plan. Samuel..._

 _Everything will soon come to pass…_

* * *

 **A/N: By now, y'all can probably figure out I will not be finishing this series on the regular timeline. There's so much stuff I want to do with this story before then, and honestly it's possible I won't be done with SOMB until the end of the year. Regardless, I'll continue to be posting regularly. I've promised myself a long time ago I WILL finish this fic. There's no doubts in my mind, and I have so much planned...**

 **P.S: I'm still looking for a beta-reader. It's pretty hard to find one since I'm the only FE7 writer nowadays, and most of the active FE beta readers only played the newer titles. I'm not asking for an editor really(I use editing software to get rid of most of grammar mistakes), just someone to look over my writing to make sure it flows correctly. I'm always one week ahead, so the beta-reader will at least have the benefit of seeing something a week before anyone else...**

 **In case you're interested feel free to PM me.**


	68. The Tournament by the Sea

**Chapter 62: The Tournament by the Sea**

 **By SodiumChloride12, derived from Fire Emblem, owned by Nintendo.**

 **A/N: I wanted an excuse to write in a training arc for the protagonist and the army. It's only going to be two chapters.**

 **Also, I finally got a beta lined up for this series. However, upon speaking with her on this subject, I think it's only right that I formally ask the guest reviewer to fill in this role. You've been giving me really good feedback for about 14 months, and honestly, I think you're probably the best suited for the job. It's all right if you decline, but I feel it's only right I give you priority for this. I have my email in my profile if you'd like to reach out!**

 **Regardless, I appreciate each and every one of my readers!**

 **N: The army set forth to Badon. What adventures lays for them there?**

* * *

"Ah!"

Samuel ducks his head as the lance of a wyvern knight glides over his being. A gust of wind from the flap of wyvern wings knocks him off his feet, his body sent face-first into arena dirt. Cheers of the crowd dim as his head rings with displeasure, and the sun glares in his eyes as he tries to get back on his feet.

 _This sucks..._

Samuel is at the arena, the largest source of entertainment for the people of Badon. Highly reminiscent of the Romans' Flavian amphitheater of old, large circular seats spiral from the center to form a stadium, all of which bustle with a significant portion of the town's population. Vendors wade through the compact seating, trying to coax potential customers of their wares, ranging from small trinkets to stale delicacies made at a nearby bakery. Men and women from all classes yell at the top of their lungs like fans of a rabid sport, their faces red with bloodlust. The air is thick with a mixture of sweat, and dust. The entire scene feels like something in between a sports event and a death march, though Samuel can't tell to which end of the spectrum it neared.

He lets the ringing in his head subside and then peers over to the area where the rest of the army spectate the battle. He notices the stern face of Erk, the wide purple eyes of Florina, and the constantly concerned gaze of Lyn. They all keep their voices low in a silent desire for his victory, though their neighbors blast the air with many jeers and cheers.

One man says, "Let's go! I want to see blood!"

Another woman exclaims, "Come on! Don't just stand there! Fight!"

Her friend adds, "Barrabas! Tear his head off!"

Barrabas?

Barrabas must be the name of the wyvern knight he's fighting. As the winner of last year's "Tournament by the Sea", he carries a lot of clout with the people of Badon. They view him as the clear favorite to win this year, and they hold no heart for underdogs like Samuel. The only thing they desire from him is for his blood to stain the dirt red, the thought of which nearly makes Samuel lose his lunch.

 _How...how uncivilized. These people just want to see me dead._

 _But not today!_

Samuel retrieves a new, yellow tome from his cloak. He recites the incantation using an archaic tongue and smiles when a buzzing feeling surrounds his fingers. This sensation confirms the success of a standard thunder spell, the newest weapon added to Samuel's arsenal.

"Me tonantem audiam clamorem!"

Zap!

A streak of cool, white lightning leaves his fingertips, shocking both the beast and Barrabas. Both scream out in pain, but regardless, remain steadfast in their quest to eliminate their foe. Barrabas shakes off the mild static in his armor and readies his lance once more...

He exclaims, "Hehehe! Your magic is useless against me! Hit me with something harder next time, will you?"

Samuel feels his gut sink. His ankles are already at the brink of snapping from all the pressure he'd put on them today, and he can sense that his ACL is at the cusp of tearing too. He does not possess the capability to dodge another lance attack delivered from the back of a wyvern, but the alternative isn't much better. The combined weight of the wyvern and Barrabas can easily shatter his bone, if not outright kill him. Lyn understands this as well, and she anxiously fidgets around in her seat like a wife watching her husband fight to the death...

Samuel sighs, his mind dancing for solutions of what to do. Eventually, though, one thought streaks across his mind...

Just how the heck did he end up in this situation?!

* * *

 **That Morning...**

"Yawn!"

Samuel stretches his arms over his head and looks tiredly at the early morning sun nested atop Port Arthur. It huddles against the sea like a buoyant orb of light, and the sight of it encourages the birds in the sky to sing their daily song. They cover the town with a harmony of natural extravagance, notifying the town of the dawn of another day.

Samuel and the army are finally in Badon. They'd arrived there last night after spending two weeks travelling from Caelin, though then the moon scarcely revealed to them the sights of the town. However, now under the presence of the sun, Badon proves to be basically the same since Samuel last visited, retaining every ounce of ill will and debauchery. Fortunately, the sprawling settlement lies dormant for the time being as the army walks through the relatively empty streets.

Badon is a minor city by the coast of Lycia. It's home to several minor attractions like a park, several pubs, and an arena, though these weren't the purpose of the army's visit. No, what they desire is passage through the southern sea to the Isle of Valor, a tall task for any of the many civilian ships that inhabit Port Arthur.

While Eliwood and the other lords frequent the pier for a ride, Samuel stands alone by the beach, taking in the fresh ocean air. It tickles the insides of his lungs, opening up his airways and instilling him a fresh sense of vigor. Although Badon stands at number two in his list of most-hated cities, the fresh air serves as a single positive among a mountain of the contrary.

He lets his boots sink deep into the dry sand, their particles dancing against the enclosed bindings of its leather. Perhaps he's foolish for being here alone with the memories of his enslavement still fresh on his mind. He remembers the dark confines of the rickety ship, the salty air of the mines, and the humid jungles of Missur. He loathes that time of discomfort, but if there's anything he didn't regret, then it's the relationship he shared with Lumina...

Lumina. He still remembers her tanned, freckled face that resembles her daughter. In part, this entire journey back into conflict was for her, as her promise pushed him to leave the comfort of isolation to brave the dangers of the world once again. Although her death pains Samuel from time to time, he has since learned to accept it for what it is. A sacrifice not just for him, but for the daughter she loved so much.

He closes his eyes, and, against anything he'd ever done before, prays for her soul. He didn't know if a supreme god or goddess existed out there, but if it did, then, well...he hopes that being provides her with all she needs in the afterlife. If the afterlife even existed, that is...

 _!_

Suddenly, Samuel feels a disturbance in the sand below him. Acting instinctively, he attaches his sword to his gauntlet and turns around to face the perceived threat.

He exclaims, "Halt! Who goes there?! I'm armed!"

A figure with brown hair raises his hands defensively into the air. He has a wide smirk across his face, and an unforgettable sense of swagger around him. It's Matthew.

He says, "Hey, calm down there, Mr. Escapee. I swear I'm not a slaver trying to send you back."

Samuel lowers his weapon, but keeps his head tense. He replies, "You better. These guys will nab you near the boardwalk or in broad daylight. They're ruthless."

The two men close the distance between them and shake hands. Matthew smiles when he feels the force behind his friend's grip.

He says, "Oh, what's this? I feel a bit more punch behind your grip. You've been getting stronger, haven't you?"

Samuel nods, thinking about all the struggles he'd undertaken to get to this point. The countless battles and subsequent rehabilitation. The fights with himself and the enemy. All of his efforts result in his current state of power, though he remains far from where he wants to be. He knows he can only attain what he's after with further growth and training..

Samuel replies, "Yeah, but not strong enough. I need to find a sparring partner. Right now, I know no offensive spells except for that of a basic fire and thunder, and I have the footwork of a tranquilized turtle wearing ankle weights. I can't expect to learn everything on the battlefield and I need to find someone who can help me work to my full potential."

Together, the duo thinks about potential candidates to help Samuel train. Preferably, this person would need to be someone of similar class and fighting style. At the outset, this requirement seemingly eliminated everyone in the army, since Samuel's class is as nontraditional as they come.

Matthew asks, "So, what class are you? I mean, I know you're considered a mage, but last time I checked mages don't wear armor or wield swords."

Matthew has a point. Although initially Samuel didn't wear any armor of any kind, past injuries push him to wear some and lessen further damage to his body. In terms of plating, he is somewhere in between a cavalier and a mercenary. However, this did not make him a tanky soldier by any means. His body has deteriorated to a point where he can no longer take much in the way of physical punishment without passing out.

Matthew observes the long blade protruding from Samuel's wrist and comes up with an idea. He says, "Hey Samuel, have you thought about becoming an assassin?"

An assassin is an expert in discreetly and quickly eliminating a target. Although not suited for frontline combat, they can sneak behind enemy lines for kills on important targets. Being an assassin takes a lot of hard work to build up the speed and strength required, but it's a role Samuel could take on if he doesn't want to deal with injuries sustained on the front lines.

Samuel replies, "An assassin? Don't you need speed for that? I'm not very fast, nor do I think I can build it up. My ankles have always been bad, so I can't spring around all over the place like you or Lyn."

Matthew says, "You wouldn't need traditional speed, per se. You mentioned to me earlier that you're fairly close to unlocking a blinking ability. If you can master that, and use it at a whim, you should be able to approach and escape with ease. Combine that with your improved magical abilities and the enemy won't know what hit them."

Samuel cracks a smile and considers the idea. He adds, "Hmph, and all my armor will allow me to be far more durable than any of my peers. It's a sound plan, especially since I can use my high resistance to easily overwhelm mages."

His smile leaves him, and he returns to his initial state of seriousness. He says, "Alas, there's so much time between then and now. I'm near promotion, but I still need to pack on more strength. I also don't know what item I'll need to promote. As a mage, it'd be a Guiding Ring, but thieves require Fell Contracts."

A Fell Contract is an item that can promote a thief to an assassin, while Guiding Rings accomplish the same purpose on mages, turning them into higher-level sages. The proposed class that Samuel wants to become is a Mage Assassin, a marriage between the high-magical potency of a sage and the quick finesse of an assassin. An item for promoting to this class doesn't exist, and this represents the principal problem.

Matthew says, "Hmm...this is an interesting question that requires an equally interesting answer. I will send a letter to my liege and ask if this sort of thing is possible. I'm sure some great mind in Etruria has already figured it out..."

 _!_

"Lieutenant Kenan! Matthew!"

Rebecca emerges from the dense assortment of coastside shops that accompanied the beaches of Badon. She informs the duo of a recent development at one at one of the nearby taverns, but Samuel can hardly focus. Her hair is frizzier than Samuel is used to, and he can't help but let loose a chuckle.

He says, "Oh my— Rebecca, you...look different. Pfffft..."

Matthew raises his brow in slight confusion, but eventually he, too, notices the foil-like nature atop the village girl's head. Both break out laughing at her expense and all Rebecca can do is pout.

She protests, "Hey! It's not funny! I've never been near the ocean before and I didn't think the humidity would mess with me this badly! Come on! Stop that!"

She stomps her foot down. She says, "We found some guys who can help us get to Badon! Apparently, they're pirates..."

* * *

Someway, somehow, Samuel finds himself in a smoke-filled tavern somewhere in the town's southern district. He can't discern friendly faces from the less-than-friendly in the thick cigarette smoke, and booze flows freely within this bastion of Badon's underworld. He can't believe this is an acceptable place to conduct business...

The tavern is...one of the most rowdy places Samuel has ever seen. Rickety furniture adorns the entire place, with chairs and tables alike scrambled about with no sense of order. Small candles hanging from ceiling-bound lanterns provide a mild supplement to light coming in from the second floor's top windows, though this didn't do much to the aforementioned veil of smoke. There's a bar being serviced by an attractive, red-haired woman (though Samuel can't make out her face), and patrons, occupying stools, line the entire structure, their glasses awaiting drink. Several thick curtains hang over the first floor windows in an attempt to conceal the customers' identities, an impressive deal of which were drunk out of their minds. Several large, burly men (of whom Samuel can only assume to be seaman) sprawl out on the floor in a drunken stupor, though, luckily for him, some of them are already fast asleep. Not all are this way, however. Some take to brawling one another over the simplest of things: gambling losses, unpaid debts or perceived slights.

Screams of men swearing or fighting fill the hair, and the situation drives unease in the lords, with the exception of Hector.

Stressed, Samuel brushes the curls of his hair with his hand. The entire place reminds him of the saloons common in old, western films, though with none of the mild-mannered cowboys. If it were a film, and he could pull out a gun, he'd tell everyone to *shut up*...

 **S: Be careful what you wish for. Remember what happened last time?**

 _..._

 _Noted._

Samuel settles back into his seat. He shares a large circular table occupied by himself and the lords. The lords conduct idle small talk, in wait for the person they are to meet with, however, Samuel mostly keeps to himself...

With his head down, Samuel does everything in his power to not initiate eye contact with any of his companions, especially Lyn. The two don't speak to each other, and hadn't since their fight two weeks ago in Caelin. Neither of them want it to be this way, but find it incredibly difficult to speak with the looming elephant in the room. Thus, they resolved to ignore one another's ghost one, resulting in a situation with an obvious amount of tension.

Although Hector doesn't notice, Eliwood does. He tries to smile away the problem using his charismatic personality to ease the situation, but that doesn't work. This forces him to speak to Hector alone, as neither Lyn nor Samuel grace the air with their voices.

Hector says, "Aye, Eliwood. Where do you think this damn captain is?"

Eliwood replies, "I'm not sure. He said he'd be arrive by the end of the hour. It's almost 10 o'clock. He should be here by now."

Samuel's eyes wince through the smoke, and he notices a single, enormous figure. He has a large white do-rag firmly wrapped around his head, and a short, scruffy white beard hugs his chin. He wears a large, purple jacket that reveals a hairy chest and sports scars all across his body. If there is a man that exemplifies every stereotypical quality of a pirate, it's this man, without a shadow of a doubt.

The man says, "Aye! Wha' do ye wants, whelps? Are ye here t' see me?"

The man introduces himself as Captain Fargus, and establishes himself a specialist that robs slave ships. History knows his crew as one aboard the Davros, its sister lead by one Captain Whitney. Samuel thinks he and his crew may be the only ones crazy enough to ferry their army to the Isle of Valor, and unsurprisingly, Fargus plays the part. He's about as rough as they come and shows no fear or submission to the noble lords.

Cutting to the point, Eliwood asks, "How much will it cost to transport a small army to the Isle of Valor? I'm not familiar with your rates, so please name your price."

Fargas replies, "Depends, how many souls will you bring aboard? Also, how many of them are as big as this one?"

He points his finger towards Hector, whose vast mass of muscle and armor cause his chair to flex with stress. He clearly takes this as a slight, and angrily raises his fist at the captain.

He says, "Hey! Listen here, you damn pirate! I have nothing but solid muscle under these plates! Do you want to see them in action?!"

Eliwood, Samuel, and Lyn look on in horror as Captain Fargus stands up from his seat. Cracking his knuckles, he says, "Me pleasure."

Lyn exclaims, "Wait! What do you think you're do—"

Bif!

Samuel's mouth opens wide with shock as Hector swings at the Captain. He hits him square in the chin; the force pushing him back into another nearby group of patrons. Splinters fly when his body splits their table, and the drunken entourage of men observe both Captain Fargus and the lords with contempt in their eyes.

Cracking their knuckles, they say, "Aye! You sons of bitches looking for a fight?"

Samuel feels his gut drop as the group's leader punches Captain Fargus in the stomach. The rugged pirate then pays back the favor, all the while sporting a gleeful smile on his face. The area around him immediately devolves into a major brawl. A bonafide bar fight.

Balling up his fists, he prepares himself for action. He'd been involved in many conflicts like these in the past, and if that had taught him anything, it was that offense is the best defense. Within the smoke, he consumes a single shot of whiskey before throwing a fist at a nearby patron...

 _Yes._ Samuel thought. _Now this is a bar fight I can handle!_

* * *

 **Later...**

Turns out, it wasn't a bar fight he could handle...

"Ack!"

Samuel winces as Priscilla dabs his bloodied ear with a rag drenched in alcohol. The burning sensation from the liquid covers any tender intent behind her hand, and sends a wave of discomfort.

Samuel says, "Hey! Priscilla, do you think you can be less rough with that rag? Heck, why don't you just heal me with that staff while you're at it?"

Samuel, Captain Fargus, and the lords were outside the inn the army stayed at the previous night. A two-storied establishment, it carries all the amenities customary among its kind. It also resembles the cubic-like apartments often seen in rural American towns, its brown paint worn down from decades of existence by the sea.

Priscilla replies, "No, Lieutenant. You know for delicate organs like ears I have to be more careful. I must sanitize the wound before I heal it, otherwise you might come up with gangrene."

Samuel gags at the thought of gangrene and allows her to finish it up with her work. Meanwhile, he uses his eyes to observe around the open, unpaved street. People go about their day on this sunny, bright morning, and speak of things that intrigue the young tactician.

He spots a group of juvenile delinquents loitering by a store. They talk of an event happening later that day.

One boy says, "Are you going to the tournament today? I hear Barrabas wants to keep his crown."

His friend, a lad wearing a distasteful leather jacket replies, "You betcha! Man, Barrabas is so cool! I know he'll win the fifty thousand gold grand prize easily!"

The boy says, "Are you sure about that? I mean, he's so ruthless in the arena, what makes you think he'll fight again? He has a son, and I suspect he'll opt out this year so he doesn't risk his own life."

The friend scoffs, "Ah! Come on, Barrabas' spending habits are infamous in this town! How is he going to pay for his son's treatment without winning this prize? He's gotta go! The tournament isn't fun without him...!"

 _Tournament...?_

The tournament they are referring to is the "Tournament by the Sea", an annual competition held at the beginning of Fall. In it, competitors from all over Elibe congregate for a vicious double-elimination contest to the near-death, though it should be noted that despite the option to surrender at any time, many people lose their lives, anyway. Taking part isn't for the faint of heart, nor is it recommended for battered glass-cannons like Samuel. Such things are best left to the hearty warriors who gladly risk their lives for this immoral blood sport.

 _How uncivilized._ Samuel thought. _I'm glad we don't have to involve ourselves in that malarkey..._

"I can't believe that man!"

Hector and the other lords enter Samuel's sight. He and the rest of the lords had finished their conversation with Captain Fargus, who, despite receiving several blows to his body, agrees to meet with them anyway. The anger behind Hector's voice signifies to Samuel something isn't going their way...

Hector and the rest of the lords come within view of Samuel's sight. They stand before him with grim news, Lyn, invariably, an icy look on her face. He isn't able to tell if she directs her glare at him...or the blue-haired dynamo with an ego as high as a mountain.

Hector exclaims, "Lieutenant! This damn Captain is trying to swindle us! He wants us to cough up a hundred thousand gold for transport to the Dread Isle!"

Eliwood sighs, obviously annoyed at his friend's antics. He said, "Hector, you didn't do us any favors by punching him in the face. I believe that number has some merit behind it."

Lyn adds, "Yeah, if only you hadn't such a short fuse."

Humbled by his peer's statements, Hector lowers his tense shoulders. He brushes his blue hair lightly with his hand and briefly reflects on his errors.

He says, "I'm...sorry. I just couldn't let him talk trash to me like that. My family name carries a lot of pride, so I must protect it at all costs!"

Samuel rolls his eyes, not buying Hector's excuses. He says, "He didn't say anything about your family name. All he did was call you a little chubby, which you are."

Eliwood and Priscilla let loose a slight giggle, while Lyn struggles to keep her mouth shut. Meanwhile, Hector's face turns red with fluster, though, thankfully, he's already learned his lesson.

He says, "I...Uh...oh, phooey. I've had enough of this. Besides, just how are we going to get the money?! These pirates are the only guys crazy enough to take us to the Dread Isle...!"

The group spends a few minutes thinking about ways to produce the money, and in that time, Priscilla finishes up her work on Samuel's ear. She leaves the four of them to their own devices, with Samuel using the time to run some quick calculations. He writes marks using a crude pencil, pressed against parchment, while taking advantage of the hard sidewalk for support.

Samuel says, "Okay, how much time do we have? If you guys give me enough time, I think I can mass produce a commodity everyone in this town will love. Something like a pair of jeans or a disposable razor."

Eliwood disagrees, citing the urgency of the situation. He says, "My father is being held prisoner in Dread Isle as we speak. We cannot afford to spend months trying to sell a product to these civilians. Besides, where are we going to get the capital to start such a project?"

Samuel awkwardly scratches his back. An engineer at heart, aspects like cost often came secondary to his creative juices. They need to explore different solutions.

He says, "Erm, why can't you guys just ask your countries for the money? I doubt one hundred thousand gold is much for Pharae, Ostia, and Caelin."

Hector disagrees, "Nope. Bern has spies all over. If they find we're moving that much money for any purpose, they may suspect something and investigate. Our intelligence tells us they have ties with the Black Fang, and may notify them of our intentions."

Samuel sighs, "That has to be avoided at all costs..."

"..."

"I know of some Carazanite refugees living in the slums. If we convince them to join our ranks, we can probably rob some ba—"

Lyn shoots Samuel a look of disgust, compelling him to stop mid-sentence. Samuel is grasping at straws, and his ideas no longer swell within the realms of practicality or morality. They meet eyes momentarily, before ultimately breaking away like a pair of fighter aces dueling in the sky.

Samuel anxiously hand-combs his white hair. He's shy of ideas now. Without the money, how are they going to get to the Isle of Valor? Luckily for them, Eliwood has an answer that didn't involve manufacturing massive amounts of debt, or starting a bloody coup...

Gathering the attention of his peers, Eliwood extracts a small poster from his robes. The poster contains a crude drawing of a coliseum, along with several dramatized depictions of mighty-looking warriors. One of them rides a ferocious wyvern and wields a large, silver lance. Presumably, this man wearing red armor is Barrabas.

Eliwood says, "I hear there's a tournament being held today at the arena. The grand prize is fifty thousand gold, but the total payout is one hundred thousand gold. This might be worth of our attention..."

Eliwood's words springboard a large, complex series of events that lead to the participation of every able-bodied fighter in the tournament. Although neither Samuel nor the lords realise it, winning the tournament would be a more stringent matter than simply showing up...

No, the struggle would take every ounce of effort...

* * *

 **11:00, approximately one hour from Samuel's fight...**

Consumed inside a sea of humanity, Samuel scratches his head as he reads the brackets for today's tournament. He reads through every name individually, hoping to glimpse his own.

Samuel and the rest of the army are by a bulletin board directly outside the arena. It's in an area right by Port Arthur and was wide enough to accommodate an enormous volume of people. About eighty souls of all classes, shapes, and sizes wait in bountiful anticipation for the coming battle inside this dirt field. The atmosphere resembles something between an army camp and a carnival.

A tense bead of sweat falls down his brow. Although he holds equal or favorable matchups against many of the mages, archers, and lightly armored knights, the same cannot be said for the folks that packed on heavy armor or speed. The myrmidons, Pegasus knights, Wyvern knights, and horse-based knights all seemingly glare at him as though he were fresh meat. The worst of these matchups were towards Wyvern knights, whose high speed and damage potential negate his light armor and high resistance. In addition, he cannot hope to catch up to their movements due to his bad ankles.

Some of these guys tower over him, which is surprising, considering he's a solid 5'10. He feels thoroughly out of place among these powerful warriors, but he understands the importance behind his participation. Even if he were to be sent to loser's early, his insight into foes that may prove problematic for the stronger units in the army could be the difference between a victory and a loss.

"Lieutenant Kenan."

Shifting his eyes away from the bulletin board, Samuel finds Guy squeezed in between a cavalier and a mercenary. His drenched bandana looks bothered from a morning of training, though the kid wasn't.

Samuel says, "Guy. Good morning to you. Have you — mph. Have you figured out who you're fighting yet?"

Guy nods, his body squirming against the human sandwich. He replies, "I did. I'm fighting an archer I think I'll have no problem with. If anyone should be nervous, it should be you. Have you found your name yet?"

Curious, Samuel inquires, "Huh? No, I haven't. I was just about to—"

 _Oh no..._

Off the far corner of his eye, he spots his name below that of the last man he wanted to fight today. Although he should've seen this coming (his opponent is the highest seed, while Samuel is the lowest seed for being the last one to register for the tournament), it still sends a jolt of fear through Samuel's veins...

 **Barabbas Frick**

 **Kenan Vacia**

 **Fight Time: 12 O'Clock.**

Noon. It's the first fight of the day. Realizing this, Samuel casually extracts his flask of green tea and empties the entire liquid into his throat. There's no denying what's about to happen to him...

He's so screwed.

* * *

 **Present...**

Crack!

Samuel feels his ankles give in as he buries it into the ground and grinds his teeth when pain follows. Desperate to avoid his opponent's attack, he lets himself fall onto the ground and makes himself tiny...

Whiff!

Barabbas narrowly misses Samuel's back, and, fortunately for the mage, he also loses his balance. He and his steed violently crash onto the ground, pressing the audience to silence. Samuel and Barrabas struggle to get themselves off the ground, though the former proves much more capable of this task.

Raising himself off the ground, he uses the tip of his sword to keep himself up straight. He anxiously eyes his opponent and his wyvern slowly compose themselves inside their makeshift crater, though neither seem too injured. Shifting his helmet back into place, Barrabas glares at Samuel from his vulnerable state.

He says, "Tsk, you caught me off guard, young man. Nobody's ever dodged my attack by going that low before."

Samuel conceals the injury to his left ankle and shifts his weight to his right leg. He replied, "I'm not a normal fighter. Are you ready for round two?"

Samuel grips the binding of his thunder tome. Unfamiliar with this magic, he's glad to have pulled off his earlier attack without issue. He had picked up this stronger tome after discovering his opponent, and some pointers from Erk thankfully set most of what he needed to know. Even so, the magic only suffices to lightly injure the mounted knight, and would take multiple blows to weaken him to the point of surrender. Meanwhile, Samuel doubts he'd survive one direct hit.

This show of confidence is his last stand. It's an attempt to convince Barabbas that further conflict is not worth his time, and that fighting through Losers' is preferable to a face full of electricity. However, Samuel severely doubts he'd fall for the ruse. After all, the fall had damaged him more than his actual attack, so it's unwise for him to—"

 _!_

"Eh, I think I'm done."

Samuel lets his mouth hang wide as Barrabas throws his lance onto the ground. He then raises two fingers into the air and makes eye contact with Marquess Badon, who's sitting on his throne, high above the rest of the plebeians. He wears an outfit reminiscent of a Roman emperor and carries a stoic face unfazed to the violence before him.

Recognizing this as a sigh of surrender, Marquess Badon orders the fighting to stop. He exclaims, "People of Badon! Barabbas has conceded to his opponent! The winner is Kenan Vacia!"

* * *

 **Later...**

 _What. The. Fuck._

Samuel can hardly contain himself. He'd...just beaten the favorite to win the entire tournament off of sheer intimidation alone! This should be the subject of celebration as the worst of the tournament is now behind him...

Huh...isn't that Bartre?

Samuel notices Bartre sitting alone at a table across from him. The two eat lunch alone at the warrior's cafeteria, which is a large venue with a wooden floor, small oak tables, cobblestone walls, and level windows providing afternoon daylight. At the end of the room stands a single lunch lady, flanked by two pots of nutritious soup, though she lingers idle as most of the event's fighters had already eaten in the hour before. Busts of past champions line the edges of the walls, some of which hadn't performed within the arena's walls for centuries. The entire place oozed with history, and although Samuel can't appreciate the blood sport that built it, he can at least take in the antiquated atmosphere...

Samuel motions Bartre over to join him, and the man jovially obliges. He drops his bowl off onto the table, spilling a bit of liquid onto its brown surface.

Bartre says, "Hey! How are ya? You crack some skulls?"

Samuel replies, "You bet I did! Man, I feel like I can travel the world right now! I just beat Barabbas!"

Upon hearing those words, Bartre raises his brow. He takes a moment to think about just who this Barabbas character is, but eventually the correct synapses fire off.

He says, "Oh! Eh...sorry to rain on your parade, Lieutenant. But uh...Barabbas was sandbagging."

"Sandbagging?"

Bartre explains to Samuel what sandbagging means. After that, Samuel silently swears to himself.

 **Sandbagging: to deliberately under-perform in a race or competition to gain an unfair advantage.**

Apparently, Barabbas got a whiff that the winner of his and Samuel's fight would face off against a powerful sage he had no confidence in beating. This sage is the only other person who could beat Barabbas, though she can only do so while at full strength. His reason being that Samuel goes on to either beat or weaken the sage to a point where he could easily defeat her in the Losers' Bracket. In addition, the competition in Losers' is much more of a cakewalk for him than the winner's side, meaning he has that much more strength to take into the Grand Finals. Though Samuel's wasn't a true win in his last bout with Barabbas, it enables him to activate his plan to win the entire tournament.'

Samuel says, "Ughhhh. I let myself get played…"

"Anyway, how did everyone else do?"

Bartre explains to Samuel the results of the other soldiers. Fortunately most progress on to the second round, with the only exceptions being Rebecca and Matthew. Both of which having ended up fighting heavily armored contestants and surrendered after a couple rallies.

Bartre says, "Poor Rebecca has to deal with Barabbas in losers'. I tried convincing her to forfeit the match, but she won't have it. Maybe you can give it a go? She seems to respect your advice greatly."

Although he hadn't really noticed it before, he commands great respect in the army, though he doesn't understand what it is about him that results in this. Perhaps it is the cool manner in which he conducts himself in public, or the efforts he takes to ensure the highest possible quality-of-life for his soldiers. Lieutenant Kenan maintains the reputation of a patient and collected tactician, never partaking in any risky maneuvers that could result in his soldiers' needless deaths. His past failures in Laus and in the previous timeline taught him to stray from such things, and his troops are all the more thankful for it. The most gracious of his supporters likely Rebecca, of whose life he'd personally saved back at the beginning of this journey.

Rebecca is the last person Samuel wants to see get pummeled by a sandbagging wyvern knight. So, agreeing to Bartre's request doesn't take much thought.

He says, "I'll go. Where is she? Is she at the stands with the others?"

Bartre nods and points towards a pair of large doors leading out of the cafeteria. He says, "Yup. Go right through there and take a right. If you get lost, there's an attendant that can probably help you out..."

"Good luck out there, and don't take too long. Remember, you have a match at the end of the hour."

* * *

Samuel once again enters the thick cloud of immoral cheering contained within the arena. He wades through the inner corridors underlying the spectator stands, doing so in a manner reminiscent to the way he used to do it in his college days. People pack together like a can of sardines, and after a few minutes of pushing folks away, he eventually reaches the tunnel directly beside the area the army claimed as their own. They perch up high in the "nosebleed" seats of the arena, though, thankfully, the venue isn't high enough to cause actual nosebleeds.

He scans the seats for familiar faces, and he finds several. Dorcas, Erk, Guy, Sain, and Rebecca are all watching the current fight, and all of them, save for Rebecca, engage in some mild small talk. Erk and Guy discuss how magic could improve nomadic life, while Dorcas tries to discern what Sain meant by his "fancy" hand gestures. Meanwhile, Rebecca sits alone at the highest row of the arena, seemingly lost in her thoughts.

After giving Erk a brief wave, Samuel approaches the young archer. Oddly, her hair is down, waving gently with the wind. Samuel doesn't understand why she would want to do this, but at the very least, it provides him a conversation starter.

He said, "Hi Rebecca! You mind if I sit here?"

Rebecca smiles and pats the seat next to her. Samuel accepts his appointed spot and inquires about the anomaly he noticed earlier.

He said, "Windy day, isn't it? Say, why do you have your hair down? I can see it's flapping pretty wildly out here."

Rebecca replied, "Well...yeah. I'm actually just about to put it back down, but...forgive me for saying this. The wind never gets this bad in Pharae, and I just wanted to see how it felt to have your wind blowing this hard. It's childish...I know."

Samuel chuckles, "Nah, I wouldn't call it childish. Sometimes I forget that this whole journey is your first time seeing the world, and with that comes some unfamiliar experiences. I applaud you for taking advantage of that."

Flattered, Rebecca's face lights up with joy. She appreciates the compliments of her tactician, someone of whom she gradually saw as a mentor of sorts. Samuel enjoys the presence of a student-like character in his life too, though it's worth noting he shares this sentiment with the other teen in the group, Lowen.

Samuel says, "Say, how are you doing with Lowen right now? I can see y'all have become good friends."

 _!_

Samuel mentally flinches. He said it. The one word that ties himself to his past. Luckily, this word flies right over Rebecca's head, though the same wouldn't be the case if she were somebody like Serra, Wil, or Florina. He needs to be more careful...

Regardless, Rebecca lightens up like a love-struck teenager. Eager to speak about her crush (obvious to everyone but Lowen himself), she speaks of him highly.

She says, "Oh, he's simply amazing! He's such a gentleman, and he can cook, too! The other day he got me a daffodil, and it made me so happy! Daffodils are my favorite flowers!"

Samuel mentally rolled his eyes, "I thought your favorite flowers were carnations."

Rebecca smiles and innocently shrugs her shoulder. She replies, "Hm? I'm sure it's always been daffodils. They grew in a field just outside my home village, and Dan and I would always go out to see them during spring…"

"What's your favorite flower, Lieutenant? Surely, you must have one!"

Samuel has a favorite flower, but unfortunately that flower only exists in his old home. The memory of it makes him remember of pulling by the side of the road with his sister so they could admire their beauty…that of the Texan Bluebonnet.

Samuel said, "Yeah, it's this outstanding petty thing called a Bluebonnet. It's called that because of its color and bonnet-like petals. I haven't seen one in a while, though. Man, does it take me back…"

Rebecca askes, "Were they plentiful in your native Carazan?"

Samuel awkwardly smiles, though his mask protects his emotions from the prying eye of his listener. He reluctantly lies through his teeth, though his gut feels like it's being strung around with a wringer.

He said, "Uh, yeah…"

They spend the next half hour reminiscing about their old homes. Samuel mentions the interesting family dynamic he experienced in his adolescence, while Rebecca recalls some childhood stories between herself and her brother. Eventually, Samuel does the same thing regarding his twin sibling…

 _…_

 _!_

Samuel quickly loses track of time, and eventually, a stray glance at his pocket watch notifies him of the fight he has shortly…

Samuel says, "Oh! I need to go fight! I'll see you later! Remember what I told you!"

He turns to leave, but his original purpose suddenly beams into his frontal cortex.

He adds, "Also, don't fight Barabbas! See you soon!"

Rebecca raises her hand to protest, but just like that he's already gone.

Disappeared, past the coffin-like underbelly of the arena.


	69. Conflicting Motives

**Chapter 63: Conflicting Motives**

 **By SodiumChloride12, derived from Fire Emblem, owned by Nintendo.**

 **A/N: Ain't got much to say here. Mmm, maybe I do? Neglecting air resistance, any object released from an equal height will hit the ground at the same time, regardless of mass. This is because the acceleration of which the object is moving, gravity, is constant across every object on Earth. What mass will change is the force...**

 **F = ma. A ball with 5kg of mass weighs about 49N. F = (5kg)(9.81m/s2)**

 **Although a larger object will hurt more if it were to land on your foot, the time in which it takes to get there will remain constant regardless.**

 **To see some interesting application about that, there's a video on YouTube of astronaut David Scott dropping a hammer and a feather. Since the moon exists in a vacuum, they hit the ground at the same time (albeit a bit slower since g in the moon is 1.62m/s2).**

 **Okay, science lesson over! This totally won't be relevant in a couple chapters (lol). Now onto the chapter!**

 **N: The army continues to fight through the tournament. Everyone has different motivations for fighting, and this includes the winner of last year's competition, Barrabas...**

* * *

 **?...**

"Barrabas."

Barrabas pauses and takes a foot out of the small apartment he rents in Badon's residential ward. His mind's preoccupied with the coming battle and he refocuses his attention back towards the inside of his dwelling.

Peering his eyes inside, he glances over his single-room dwelling, paid for by a laborer's salary. It's moderately furnished for its type, containing well-made, white wooden chairs; a lightly worn, river-bed sourced brick floor; a single, cobblestone chimney simmering with a dying flame; a large, redwood table with white cloth covering; a kitchen, complete with a wooden sink; two small, clear windows, letting in warm light to bedroom area; and finally, two small beds at opposing ends of walls painted with fine white paint.

Laying bedridden is Barrabas' son, a young toddler named Pious. By appearance, Pious shares very few features in common with his father, the only exception being his wavy, brown hair. He inherits his green eyes, freckled face, and olive skin from his mother, a woman no longer with the small family. She'd died several years ago because of a case of Thalassemia, a rare blood disorder. Initially, it appeared that Pious would avoid the fate of his late mother, but fate had other plans. Last month, a doctor diagnosed him with the same disease, and the only cure came in the form of a very expensive magical operation.

The surgeon lived in Etruria, and everything between lodging, transport, and the procedure summed up to a grand total of ten thousand gold. Barrabas knew of this because of the events surrounding his late wife, though the operation did not go as expected...

He remembers how sickly she looked then. How clammy her skin was, and the lifeless gaze in her eyes. These things haunt him every night, and they push him to return to the arena so that his son won't face the same fate. He'll gladly risk his life against the toughest this town offered, all so that his son can have a sliver of hope at defeating this vicious disease.

His eyes meet his son, brown on green. He silently wishes he could spend more time with him, and less fighting in this immoral blood sport. However, this is a sacrifice son and father have to make together. All for a better future.

Barrabas said, "Yes, son? Is something wrong?"

Pious shakes his head and pulls his blanket closer against his pale skin. The boy feels tired beyond comprehension, but continues on forward like his father had against the blades of his opponents. Both wage their own battles.

He says, "No, nothing is wrong. I...feel okay. Just...take care of yourself, Daddy. I...I don't want to lose you, too."

Barrabas smiles and places his lance against the white wall. He walks over to his son's side to give him a kiss atop his cheek and ruffles up his hair. The boy beams with the love and attention of his caring father. Despite the sickly nature of this little lad, he still carries much of the adorable sparkle present among many children his age.

Barrabas says, "Don't worry about me, little guy. I'll make sure I get out of this all right. Besides, I've been through worse. Nothing, and I mean nothing, will ever beat the isles of Fibernia."

Pious eyes a worn shield hanging by the chimney. It carries the design of a golden dragon surrounded by an inverted hexagon, the emblem of the monarchy of Bern. It's a silent reminder of his father's past, first with Bern and then with a mercenary guild in Lycia, back when he used to be one of the strongest mercenaries in the land. Now, he's a laborer-turned-gladiator fighting in the arena.

Pious says, "I...yeah. I love you, Papa."

Barrabas replies, "I love you, too."

Barrabas bends over to give his son a hug, and afterwards, he picks up his lance from the kitchen wall. He looks over at his son one last time before shutting the door...

 _This is who I fight for..._

He closes his door and makes his way back to the arena. His resolve hardened, he's now further committed to winning the tournament that took him out of retirement. He silently takes an oath to accomplish one singular thing.

He will win. He doesn't care what it takes, even if it means using some underhanded tactics. He WILL do what he needs to do to make sure his son lives a long and happy life...

* * *

 **At the arena...**

The tournament goes along mostly as expected. Erk, Lyn, Hector, the knights, Raven, and Lucius all progress into the deeper rounds of the contest. Their military experience proves invaluable over the brute strength of the opposition, and they dominate both the winner's and loser's brackets alike. Ultimately, the biggest issue seems to be themselves, as sometimes, two members from the army end up facing off. Because of tournament rules, they reluctantly fight one another, lest the competition organizers suspect some type of collusion.

However, no one expects the biggest surprise of the tournament, for Samuel to progress so far into a bracket (and winner's, at that). Whether it be his experience, burgeoning strength, or an extreme amount of bracket luck (he only matched up with mages, monks, and shamans), he prevails through every battle like the protagonist of a shounen anime. He feels content with himself these past few hours, though he continues to have anxiety over future engagements. Given his history, he knows that eventually his luck will run out. But when? Who will bring him crashing back down to earth?

To Samuel's dismay, the answer comes in the form of someone he dreaded to face. He's neither Barrabas, nor a member of the dreaded Pegasus/Wyvern knight classes...

Kent. One of Samuel's fiercest critics and a competitor for Lyn's attention.

Stepping into the battle pit, Samuel hears the massive amount of sound expelled from the audience. They shower him and Kent with a plethora of distinct cries from their elevated stands. Looking up, Samuel notices some distant rain clouds approaching from the southeast, though not of the volume to solicit much concern. Desiring to loosen his joints, Samuel brushes his boots against the dry, flat dirt. He understands this battle will be tough, especially if Kent holds nothing back.

A referee wearing plainclothes beckons them to approach, and both do. They come within a yard of one another, stopping just before they get within hand's reach. The referee asks the two men to shake hands and share some words if they so choose.

Samuel extends his hand further out of courtesy, and as expected, the red knight accepts. They stare into each other's eyes as enemies about to fight to the death, and the added tension riles the crowd. They increase their volume twofold and the air riddles with all sorts of theories about their relationship.

"By the Creator! Do the masked mercenary and the red knight not like each other?!"

"Seems like it! By his body language, it looks like he took the red knight's woman! Oh, the drama!"

"Who do you think will win? This is the masked man's second fight with a non-magical foe! He does well bearing the onslaught of magical fire, but do you think he can take the brunt of a lance?"

"I doubt it. I think the masked man's lucky to have gotten this far. The red knight will expose him for the sham he really is. Just watch."

Anxiety creeps up Samuel's gut, but not so much as to overwhelm him. He stomachs it like the potion he took this morning and focuses his attention on bidding Kent good luck.

Samuel puts on the toughest, coldest impression he could muster. He harkens back toward the old face offs he used to have with rivals in high school football. As the co-captain, he would line up with the opposing leadership for the coin toss, and had—

Breaking through his bubble of thought, Kent says, "Good luck, Lieutenant. I won't hold back."

Samuel replies, "Y-Yeah. Same here."

Samuel turns to pull away, but Kent keeps his grip tight. He nearly loses his balance, but maintains his composure since his foe has something to say. Judging by the red knight's face, it's not something amicable.

Kent says, "Today, we will find out who's worthy of defending Lady Lyn. Let's make a wager, Samuel. If I win, I want you to create some distance between you and her. I do not trust your intentions with her."

The request makes Samuel gasp. Samuel has always thought he carried himself well, though Kent disagrees. Still, it never crosses his mind he would suggest something so...blatant. If Samuel didn't view him as a rival before, then he certainly does now.

Samuel replies, "You know I can't agree to your terms, Kent. It's not mine alone to make. Besides, Lyn is perfectly capable of defending herself. She's not some helpless damsel."

Upon hearing those words, Kent lets his grip go. Samuel takes a step back and plants his boot into the dry dirt.

He adds, "If you have some personal vendetta against me, then you may as well settle it here. I might not be that strong, but I'll be damned if I don't give it my all. I'm sure she knows that, too."

Samuel and Kent stray a glance over to Lyn, who sits idly with Florina at her side. Her face expresses a hint of silent anxiety.

Samuel says, "I will probably lose...and I know it. I will grant you this, Kent. Not only are you stronger than me, but you're likely the strongest soldier in our army. Your work ethic and will to succeed is superior to mine. In addition, you command plenty of respect, conduct yourself honorably, and suffer through none of the mental or physical adversity I go through every single day. By that metric, I...I can admit you are a better man than me. In some alternate reality, you are likely the one to have won over Lady Lyn's heart..."

Samuel tightens his gloved hand, a vein bulging from his temple. He continues, "But know this, I am not a lucky man. However, despite that disadvantage, I still mustered together the ability to love her...and won the right for her to love me. I've—no, we conquered through too much adversity for us to be at the point we are now. Issues aside, there's a lot left for us to accomplish. However, nobody, and I mean nobody, will ever get in between us..."

Samuel extracts his blade from his waist pocket and attaches it to his gauntlet. Kent follows suit, choosing to utilize a lance as his weapon of choice.

Samuel says, "Prepare yourself, Kent."

Kent replies, "As for you, Samuel."

Samuel charges forward, his sword shining under the bright sun. The surrounding crowd erupts into fanfare, all but drowning out Samuel's war cry...

Samuel exclaims, "Hwuaaaaaaaah!"

* * *

"Ack!"

"Hold still, and be quiet, please!"

Samuel winces as Priscilla works on extracting a large, baseball-sized lance tip from his hip. The wanna-be dynamo bites down hard on a small, cylindrical piece of wood as she does so, nearly shattering his teeth from the pain.

The duo are at a noble's suite-turned-medical-bay nestled deep in the west wing of the arena. It's a tidy and clean facility mostly composed of marble, and though it sports a single window overlooking the town, it carries no vantage point over the tournament...

Beds and cots line the walls that once held carts full of luxurious foodstuffs. Discarded staffs lay on a gold-laden table formerly used to distribute drinks. Bandages, syringes, and broken tourniquets huddle nearby in an antiqued medical chest. Blood and melted ice stain the otherwise flawless checkerboard-esque floors. Candles give the white room a warm, orange glow.

Although Priscilla is the only medic in attendance, two other soldiers lie recovering in the hastily set-up bedding. These people are Guy and Dorcas. The former recovering from the final stages of his stomach flu, while also nursing through a concussion he suffered in his last match in loser's. Samuel doesn't understand Dorcas' situation.

 _!_

Samuel feels a sting of pain as Priscilla removes the last of the tip from his hip. He winces again as she..."cleans" up the area of bone fragments and debris. In an era lacking extensive use of anesthesia, all Samuel can do it bite down harder on his slab of wood...

Someway, somehow, Samuel doesn't pass out. He stands fast as Priscilla quickly concludes her clean up work and covers his wound with a good helping of healing magic. Her calm, saint-like voice puts Samuel at peace...

"Saint Elimine and the holy Creator. Please bless this child with your mercy..."

The once bloodied, gruesome wound closes up. All the pain surrounding it evaporates in an instant, and Samuel lets a sigh of relief escape his lips. Despite the severity of his beating at the hands of the red knight, he's glad to have escaped that bout relatively unscathed...

The battle went about as well as the Spanish Inquisition. In other words, really badly. Kent did away with his opponent's sub-par swordsmanship and shattered his blade very early in the battle. Samuel tried to keep his distance and camp the red knight out with spells, but Kent's swift mount made that impossible. All told, Samuel only lasted about five minutes before Kent's lance injured him beyond the capacity to fight.

Closing his eyes, Samuel laments about the engagement. That display was an utter show of domination on the side of Kent, and a dismal embarrassment for him. No one had ever cast him aside so easily (at least in a while) as Kent had, and the thought boils his blood. As a prideful soul in the body of a tactician, Samuel feels some anger, almost hatred towards that overzealous knight in shining armor. He can't believe he allowed himself to sink to this state of destitution...

He remembers the look of shock across Lyn's face as the medics carted him off of the arena. The hint of despair in her eyes, her helpless demeanor as her hands covered her mouth. Although this engagement with the red knight could be considered "friendly" as he didn't kill him or leave a debilitating injury, Samuel knows that his future won't have that luxury. The isle of Valor is likely full of enemies under the command of his supreme villain, the sorcerer Nergal. Unlike Kent, that man won't hesitate to end his life.

Although Samuel doesn't agree with Kent, the red knight has a point. At the point he's at now, Samuel's too weak. Future conflict means he can no longer be content with allowing himself to rely entirely on his allies. He needs to join them on the front lines, and to do that, Samuel requires strength he does not wield. Samuel needs to get stronger. Much stronger.

Samuel balls up his fist and observes as veins pop out from his arm. The stickiness of his bloodied skin had caught a stray hair from his healer, the honorable Priscilla. A wandering noble looking for her long-lost brother, Priscilla expressed a surprising amount of toughness for someone of her class. Although she occasionally seemed faint at the sight of blood, she expertly conducts treatments like a seasoned surgeon. Couple these qualities with the troubadour's young age, she represented a type of person that baffles Samuel.

He observes Priscilla silently put away his blood-stained bandages, her eyes cold like a winter morning. Samuel wonders if she stores away her queezyness deep in her heart, though she swayes faintly with each continued second. Even then, she returns back to her innocent demeanor the moment she ridded herself of the source.

Samuel says, "Priscilla, can I speak to you about something?"

After adding a newly broken staff to the aforementioned pile, she obliges her superior's request. She walks towards his bedside and rests her calm green eyes on Samuel's masked face.

She says, "Is something wrong, Lieutenant? Do you feel any pain?"

Samuel replies, "No, I feel superb. It's just...I was watching you work when I realized the absurdity of this whole thing. You're...you're only fifteen, right? A little girl like you shouldn't be doing this type of stuff."

Priscilla tilts her head at her Lieutenant's suggestion. Although she understands where he was coming from, the young troubadour can't understand why he said it.

She says, "What ever do you mean? Am I not conducting a great service to the army? If my performance is lacking, then please tell me so I may improve my service."

Samuel shakes his head. This is not what he means to convey to this mild-mannered healer.

He says, "No! Your work is invaluable to us...but you're only a child. I couldn't imagine being in your shoes when I was your age. It doesn't sit right with me."

Priscilla pauses and anxiously rubs the shaft of her healing staff. Her eyes dilate as a terrifying thought streaks across her mind.

She says, "Lieutenant, are you suggesting I leave?"

"Well..."

Samuel hesitates with his answer. Deep in his heart, he wants to say yes. He wants Priscilla to walk away and go back home to a life of safety so she can enjoy the rest of her childhood. If Priscilla were his own daughter, that's something he would desire.

Eventually though, Samuel musters the strength to make his case. He says, "Priscilla, I want you to understand that I believe children have no place on the battlefield. I've tolerated Guy's and Rebecca's presence in the army because of their situation, but you have the luxury of coming from a position of wealth. There's no reason for you to be out here with us. You've delivered for us a fantastic service, but ours isn't much more important than one's childhood. You should leave. Go home. You have my permission. Don't worry about what the rest of the army says. I'll take care of it."

Priscilla shifts her gaze away from the Lieutenant, her mind considering his proposition. Guy, who had just encountered a conscious stint in his recovery, sits idly in anticipation for her answer.

She says, "I...I must turn down your offer, as well-meaning as it may be. You see, my purpose for leaving the safety of my castle comes down to my search for my missing family. I left upon hearing a rumor of my older brother's survival. He was the heir apparent to House Cornwell prior to its destruction. I...I know he's out there somewhere..."

Unfamiliar to that House's name, Samuel asks, "House Cornwell?"

Priscilla nods, "Yes. They were a noble family that had some holdings within the land of Ostia. My brother, his name was Raymond. Due to my young age, I don't remember much of those times, but eventually, my father got caught up in a corruption scandal. Ostia doesn't tolerate this behavior, so they dissolved the house and burned our home to the ground. I had the benefit of escaping the fire and later being adopted by Count Caerleon...but my brother went missing. I didn't hear from him for nine years...up until the day I heard about the rumors..."

She continues, "I set off the instant I could confirm their truthfulness. My adoptive parents tried to convince me to stay, but they understood my desire to rekindle my relationship with my blood. My father arranged for the top student of the Mage's Academy and Lord Pent's protégé, Erk of House Reglay, to look over me during my travels. We scoured through the Lycian countryside looking for any trace of my family and brother, ultimately leading us to Laus. I'm sure you're familiar with my denial of Lord Darin's advances, and those series of events eventually led us to joining you."

Lord Darin. Samuel thought. He recalls how that coward left his son to die, but he never suspected he'd entertain flirtations with a fifteen-year-old girl. The thought disgusts him beyond comprehension.

Samuel says, "He did what?! Did he press himself on you? I swear, if that bastard touched you, I'm going to—"

Priscilla shakes her head, quick to dismiss any theories the Lieutenant had. She replies, "N-No. Fortunately, some villagers protected me and put some distance between us. Thank you for your concerns..."

"But, this all hearkens back to the reason I'm travelling in the first place. To find my older brother. Regardless of what you tell me to do, I will travel the world to find him, with or without the army. However, it'd be foolish of me to leave. The army provides Erk and I with protection, while we provide it with our magical talents..."

Priscilla takes Samuel's calloused hands and closes them with her own. The display ices up Samuel's veins, though Priscilla doesn't notice because of Samuel's white mask. She gives one last-ditch attempt to stay in the army.

She says, "Lieutenant, I implore you to permit me to remain in the army. I must stay so I may continue to stay close to my br— I mean, so I may find my older brother. Besides..."

Keeping her pious face, Priscilla comes up close to Samuel's right ear, which still has some stitches across its edge. She whispers, "I saw your face when I was wrapping you up in Caelin. I don't intend to tell anyone of your identity, and I don't want to have a reason to go back on that. Do understand...Mr. Castillo?"

Samuel's eyes widen with shock, and his heart flips upside down. He'd never seen this part of Priscilla before, though the girl seems every bit as surprised as him. Blackmail isn't something Priscilla took pride in doing, though evidently Samuel's actions forced her hand. Priscilla stares at Samuel apologetically, and Samuel breathes a deep, anxious sigh.

He's lost here. That much is clear.

Samuel says, "I...I understand. Forget everything I just said, and...I'll be going now. Thank you for helping me."

Samuel stands to leave and walks over to the front door. Priscilla stops him before he can touch the doorknob.

She exclaims, "I-I'm sorry. I just...I didn't..."

Samuel shakes his head. He's been in a similar situation before, and sometimes, the ends justify the means. Especially when it comes regarding one's family. However, that doesn't mean he feels any appreciation for being toyed like a political pawn.

He says coldly, "I'm done here. I have to make my way up through Losers'. I pray I don't end up here again."

"Wait!"

Samuel closes the door behind him shut, leaving a veil of darkness behind him. Priscilla stands there in silent regret for what she just did.

She mutters, "I did what I had to do...but at what cost?"

* * *

At times like these, sometimes the only thing a quirky tactician from America can do is strap on a green headband, dye his hair a light shade of pink, and prepare to sleep on his competition. Samuel understands firsthand the perils of combat, and although he didn't partake in any of the aforementioned things, he readies himself mentally for the horrors of Losers' bracket.

He needs every bit of preparation for his next opponent. As the first person he sent down to Losers', Barrabas the Wyvern Knight likely holds some animosity towards the burgeoning voidwalker. That's why Samuel feels dread upon reading his name next to his on the bracketing chart again, especially after the recent beating at the hands of Kent.

 _Why me…?_ He thought. _I am so screwed._

Samuel cautiously readies his sword as he walks through the arena's gates again. His muscles ache from the accelerated healing he'd undergone earlier, but he stomachs the pain in light of the opponent he's about to face. The audience around him whispers in silence as he comes into view, and he hangs his head low. The audience members of the arena are notorious for holding negative opinions towards recent losers, though the opposite can be said about who they perceived as winners...

Samuel stays silent as the announcer solemnly recognizes his arrival to the battlefield. As expected, the air stays still of any disturbances, the sole exception being some distant cheers of indistinguishable origin. Afterwards, the man clears his throat, preparing himself for the more bombastic introduction of the arena's favored contestant.

He said, "Annnnnd watch out, ladies and gentlemen. The masked mercenary finds himself at odds with the winner of last year's tournament, and he wants revenge for being sent down to Losers' bracket! Give it up for Barrabas the Brute!"

 _!_

Loud encore erupts through the arena, and Barrabas struts through his gate like a Roman emperor midway through a Triumph. He holds his head and lance high, placating the attention of his fans with grace. He pats the side of his wyvern and takes to the sky, flying in a vast circle to greater fanfare. The pomp of it all annoys Samuel greatly, and he brings it up with the referee.

He inquires, "Is that legal?"

"..."

"Dude?"

Samuel sighs as he realizes the referee is completely star struck by Barrabas' antics. He gazes at him like one of the fans in the audience. It is at this moment that Samuel surmises that not only did Barrabas hold the matchup advantage but also the favor of the audience and referee alike...

Samuel scoffs in disgust. He wouldn't be surprised if Barrabas has this match fixed. Someway, somehow, that blasted man installed a sympathetic judge to rule over their match. He likely has some arrangement with the organizers of this tournament.

Eventually, Barrabas lands back to allow the introduction of the match. He disembarks from his wyvern and approaches both men waiting for him down below.

Feeling cocky, Barrabas says, "Heh. You like that? I hope it pays for the sandbagging earlier."

Samuel's right eye twitches, and a fire ignites inside his gut. He replies, "I was never a person who appreciated pomp and circumstance, Barrabas. Oh, where are my manners? I never had the opportunity to meet you formally. My name is Kenan Vacia, an esteemed tactician native to the City of Carazan."

Samuel extends his hand forward and says nothing as Barrabas squeezes it under what feels several metric tons of force. He does his best to return the gesture with his own display of aggression, but his grip cannot suffice to the task. Barrabas simply has more strength than him...

An audience member exclaims, "Knock him out, Barrabas! Expose him and take that stupid mask off his face!"

Samuel glares in his opponent's eyes as he continues to keep his grip on his hand. His face stays expressionless through his thick white mask as if his opponent can see through it.

He says, "I've noticed that you placate to your fans a lot, Barrabas. Is there a reason behind that?"

Barrabas snickers, "Hehehe. On the ring, all contestants are taught that skill, strength, and talent are the only things that matter to win a fight. That might be the case in a standard battlefield, but in my multiple journeys through these tournaments, I've realized there is one thing superior to those three things. Do you want to know what that thing is, my dear tactician?"

Samuel replies, "I think I already have a feeling what that is...if the fixed nature of this match is any indication."

Barrabas chuckles as he lets his hand go and extends his arms outward towards the sky. In Samuel's mind, it reminds him of a similar move made in the movie Gladiator, though that's all he surmises.

Barrabas says, "Ah, so you are as intelligent as they say you are. Well, you are correct. You have no chance of winning this battle, but I do ask that you struggle. My fans won't see me as the hero unless I triumph over a vile foe."

Samuel replies, "Bullshit. Never did I suspect that a contestant could become so popular that the organizers feel it necessary to rig the whole competition. It's all to sell more tickets, isn't it? What a mess."

Barrabas nods his head. He says, "You can have contestants come from all over the world but only garner the attention of a few fans. What a tournament like this needed wasn't overachieving displays of talent, but a few charismatic superstars that can snare the hearts of an entire town. Nothing is more important than popularity, and as such, the most popular will receive their rewards in kind."

Samuel scoffs, "I never should've come out here. I'm just going to get beat up to stroke the egos of you and the crowd."

The referee chides, "It's too late to leave now, I'm afraid. The last person to bow out of a fight while inside the ring got disgraced and chased out of town. You can only surrender in the middle of a bout, not before."

"Great..."

Samuel sighs and fixes his sword to his gauntlet. Fear encapsulates his heart, and he refrains from looking up towards any of his friends observing him for the stands. He doesn't want them to see the weakness in his soul, or the hesitation he feels for being here.

He says, "Let's just get this over with. Even if everything is stacked up against me, I will do my best to accomplish the biggest upset of this tournament."

Barrabas scoffs and makes his way back to his steed. He draws his lance and puts it at battle-ready position. He replies, "There's only so much a man can do, Mr. Vacia. Don't push yourself too hard or I might accidentally kill you."

Samuel mutters, "Well, I suppose it's a wonderful thing I am no man..."

The volume from the audience increases as the two men take on different stances for battle. Barrabas leans forward in his offensive stance learned from the Bernish Army, while Samuel does the opposite with a defensive counterpart in part inspired by two cultures, Illia and Sacae. He plants his feet deep into the earth like an Illian Lily during the winter, while his face hangs high like a Sacaen warrior staring down death. The blood in his veins cools down into a calm frost, clearing his mind to read his opponent's next move.

The referee raises his hands...

"Begin!"

 _!_

A gust of wind tears through the calm air, taking Samuel off guard as instead of charging directly at him, Barrabas orders his steed to violently flap his wings. This sends several metric tons of sand into the surrounding environment, creating a thick sandstorm that obscures half of the entire arena. It covers the area Samuel had taken his stance in, and he chokes as the smoke barrels into his lungs.

"Ack"

That dirty slimeball isn't playing fair!

Desperate for relief, Samuel quickly splashes some water from his canteen onto a spare piece of cloth he has in his possession. He wraps this makeshift scarf around his mouth, providing him with some much-needed filtration. Thankfully, his bushy eyebrows do well in keeping most of the sand out of his eyes, though he still can't see where his enemy is...

 _Where is he..._

 _!_

Suddenly, Samuel hears a distinct flapping of wings coming from his left, and he dashes away just in time for Barrabas to narrowly miss skewering him with his lance. The sheer force of his steed displacing the nearby air and forces most of the sand to settle onto the ground, clearing the arena and allowing Samuel to remove the cloth from his face.

Samuel shifts his gaze towards his opponent flying several meters above him. His clothes take on a fresh shade of yellow from the airborne debris, but so does Samuel's. Barrabas looks down on him confidently with his hands folded across his dirtied breastplate.

He says, "Aha! Your hearing is up to par! No wonder you've survived this long..."

Samuel clears his throat and spits out a wad of saliva blackened by sediment. He replies, "It's not just my hearing, either. I worked hard to reach this point in my life. I don't rely on the protection of my fans to keep my career afloat."

Barrabas scoffs, "Hah! Surely you jest! I know all you tacticians do is lay back and let others do the fighting for you! I should know, I used to fight for King Desmond a long time ago. You lots are all college-educated wussies that don't know the pain of fighting in the front lines. You're delusional and enamored in trying to please your superiors. I will take great joy in beating you, young tactician. One of your kin tricked me to leave the ranks of my original unit a long time ago, and now I can take revenge in your mediocrity."

Sweat drips down the sides of Samuel's face, making the youthful man feel uncomfortable under the beating sun. He never suspected that Barrabas held a personal vendetta against tacticians, and now he wants to treat Samuel as an outlet for his own frustrations. Oddly, he doesn't feel upset by this, only disappointed. He recalls an earlier conversation he shared with Rebecca...

Samuel says, "Is...that the reason you fight?"

"Eh?"

Samuel's question takes him aback, and he swerves a bit in the air as he momentarily lost control of his steed. He quickly regains back the favor of his steed, however, and broods on his answer. He replaces his showman's eyes with those of a genuine human being. Oddly, Samuel finds himself comparing them to his own.

He replies, "No. I would never fight for something as petty as revenge, even though it serves as a motivation. I fight for my only begotten son. He's sick, and the procedure to treat him is expensive. I can only earn this money by placing well in the tournament, and as you know only the top 8 competitors earn money here. You stand as the sole obstacle between me and top 8. It's my duty as a father to defeat you so that my son may live."

"Prepare yourself."

 _!_

Empathy encapsulates Samuel's heart, but he can't indulge in it for long. Barrabas charges at him again, this time doing so head-on with the full force of his steed. His lance sticks out in front of him, the tip of a missile, and he travels with an enormous amount of velocity. He's too fast to dodge. There's only one thing Samuel can do...

"Hwuuuuuagh!"

Placing his right hand over his left, Samuel blocks the tip of the spearhead from going into his chest. His feet scrape violently against the earth as his opponent's wyvern pushes him several yards backwards, eventually skidding to a stop a scant distance from the field's stone walls. Samuel winces in pain as the friction had scraped off the soles of boots along with several layers of skin, but he ignores the increasing pools of crimson underneath his body. Instead, he keeps his eyes transfixed on his opponent, whose lance now lays fixed in between his metallic fingers.

Samuel smiles through the pain. He knows of someone who once traversed through a vast distance of terrible terrain with her feet bare and bloodied. If she managed the strength to bear with it, then he'll be damned if he can't here.

He says, "You know, I fight for someone, too. She's my niece, and she'll die if I don't get this money. She's held in the Isle of Valor. If I can't defeat you here, then I, for sure, can't defeat the bastards that have her over there."

Barrabas replies, "Oh? I suppose you and I share some things in common. For that, I give you my sympathy. However, I have no intention in letting you win. Even if you win this rally, I'll just use this elixir to heal back up."

The tournament strictly forbids using any healing items in the middle of a bout, but Samuel knows the referee will turn a blind eye. The audience will probably do so, too, since Barrabas has them firmly wrapped around his finger. If Samuel wants to win this battle, he has to do it now...

Barrabas raises his brow as Samuel sports a devilish smile. He can't understand why, as he firmly has the match under his control.

He says, "Eh? Why are you smiling? Have you gone mad?"

 _!_

Samuel does the unthinkable when he twists his hand, shattering his metallic limb into dozens of pieces. This catches his opponent off guard not only because Barrabas hadn't seen his prosthetic underneath its leather glove, but also of what he does next. He lurches forward with profound strength, tackling him onto the ground while using his shoulder as a missile. The blows knock the wind out of him, immobilizing him while giving Samuel the opportunity he desires.

Barabbas says, "Ack! Wha—"

Samuel acts quickly as he extracts a thunder tome from his pack and places his good hand firmly above his opponent's chest.

He says, "I was smiling because you left yourself open. You don't know this, but I'm quite handy in causing chaos."

"Now...stand still while I shock you into unconsciousness..."

Barabbas pleads, "No! Wait!"

Zap!

The audience goes quiet as several thousands volts of electricity course through Barabbas' body. He falls limp, their champion conceding defeat as his hand stops squirming with stimuli. This is the moment they realize the truth...

In grinding through the weaker opponents of the tournament, Samuel has gained strength exponentially larger than when he first entered. It doesn't matter if Samuel ends up being crowned champion at the end of the day, because, in a way, the tactician has already achieved his goal here. To get stronger. Of everyone else in the arena, no one else is more ecstatic of that fact than Samuel himself. He raises his hands into the air triumphantly, and screams out a battle cry in a language only he can understand. At long last, he sees the light at the end of the tunnel of his own mediocrity.

At long last, Samuel has won.

* * *

The rest of the tournament passes fairly quickly. Since the fan favorite no longer holds a place in the competition, most of the audience went back home to their regular civilian lives. This left the stands empty, save for some isolated observers. Although Samuel was forced to exit the tournament due to injuries from his battle with Barrabas, the army still took top eight. Samuel finished in 8th, Erk in 7th, Lowen at 6th, Hector in 5th, Lyn at 4th, Lucius in 3rd, Sain in 2nd, and Kent took the grand title. After winning the competition, they immediately set off towards the docks to find Captain Fargus, who eagerly took the money and set sail for the Isle of Valor...

He said, "Aye! Ye laddies really put on quite th' show! Hehehe, let's see wha' th' high sea has in store fer ye!"

Standing alone with bandages heavily covering his feet, Samuel looks out the bow of the pirate ship towards the fading dot representing Badon. The blue sky makes him clear his mind, filling his heart with some regret for what he had done to Barrabas and his son. He knows what him defeating that man means for the little boy. He'll likely die of the disease tearing away at his life. Indirectly, this makes Samuel his killer, though this doesn't bring him much comfort...

 _There was...no other way._

If this world has a hell, his actions then likely secure him a future there. But, he would much rather burn for an eternity than let his niece continue to suffer at the hands of his most supreme enemy. He means it when he tells his companions he'll do anything to get her back...

Anything. Even if it means tearing himself apart.


	70. Shifting Sails

**Chapter 64: Shifting Sails**

 **By SodiumChlouride12, derived from Fire Emblem, owned by Nintendo.**

 **A/N: I finished my classes last week, and I'm glad to say everything went well! Other than that, I've been locked inside for awhile. There isn't much to do besides writing fanfiction and playing video games. Sigh...**

 **Y'all ever played Bastion? I love that game so much. I played it when I was younger, and I got back around to it today. I completely wasted my day, but I have no regrets.**

 **N: Samuel finds back in the void. A friend patiently waits for him to open his eyes...**

* * *

 **?...**

"It's been a while...Samuel."

Samuel opens his eyes and finds himself in the familiar black of the void. His white cloak floats still in the amorphous, almost liquid substance that covers every inch of his body. His skin tingles from the utter lack of stimuli affecting him, but he tries his best to ignore it and focus his gaze on the elf-like child floating in front of him.

He replies, "Huh, I suppose I'm dreaming again. Nice to see you, too, Sothis."

Sothis smiles and floats around her friend, made from black magic. Her glowing hair and body shines in stark contrast to the darkness around them both, and her green eyes resemble stars in a clear night sky. Samuel himself matches the light his friend provides, though he takes on a differing shade of inky purple to Sothis' pure green and white. Both stare at each other for a while, as they are unsure of what to do in this place of infinite possibilities.

Breaking the silence, Samuel says, "So, I've noticed you're not appearing as often in my head as you used to. Is everything okay? Are you feeling all right?"

Halting her orbit, Sothis nods her head. She says, "Yeah, but I'm just getting more tired nowadays. I think my age is getting the better of me, and it doesn't help that you're the dominant party in our soul bondage. I'll deal with it, though. I won't be able to talk to you as often as before, but I'll still try to help you as much as I can."

Samuel breathes a sigh of relief. The knowledge of Sothis' continued well being lifts a weight from his shoulders, and the surge of emotions compels him to reach out and hug his perceived guardian angel. This surprises the former time goddess, but she allows herself to blush, if only a little.

Samuel says, "Thank you, Sothis. I appreciate you so much. I don't know where I'd be if it weren't for you."

Sothis replies, "Sam, I'll do my best to protect you. But, know this. From here on out, you will be alone more often. I understand that your mind isn't as solid as it used to be. Tell me, are you surrounding yourself with kind people? People who can support you while I'm not around?"

Samuel nods his head, thinking about his main man, Erk. Besides Lyn, he's one of the key pillars of support keeping him from going off the deep end of his sanity. Alongside Canas, he's one of his most sincere friends.

He says, "Don't you worry about that! I'm in excellent hands."

Hearing those words, Sothis sighs. She lays her head against Samuel's chest, which neither carries the scars nor the armor of his mortal life. She silently prays that what Samuel says is true, though a part of her fears some truth-bending is in play.

She says solemnly, "I really hope that's the case. I haven't been able to read your mind lately because I'm always asleep."

Samuel gives an awkward smile, his psyche slightly off-putted by Sothis' casual willingness to violate his privacy. It's likely an excellent thing she's sleeping so often, otherwise she would undoubtedly have something to say about some recent developments in Samuel's life.

Samuel replies, "Eh...okay. I hope you've been sleeping well."

Sothis silently nods, after which she opens her mouth to yawn. Suddenly, the surrounding void cracks and dissipates, a sign of Samuel's return back to the mortal plane.

She says, "I suppose it's time to return to my state of repose. Until next time..."

"I'll see you soon..."

* * *

 **Early morning, in a pirate ship somewhere in the Southern Sea...**

The ship of the Davros Crew cruises steadily through the calm sea. Its hull sloshes through the blue water, the underside covered by a thick sheet of gray barnacles. The waterlogged wood creaks and strains with every minute movement. The ship's sails puff in and out with wind as they push the ship further along its path. The crow's nest stands high as it overlooks a wide plain of sea, nothing but an endless blanket of blue for all the eye can see...

Samuel leans over on the nest's railing and looks down towards the sea of people below. Sailors from the crew and the army sprawl all throughout the deck, with most of them fraternizing among themselves. He sees Kent and Sain playing a game of cards, Bartre and Dorcas in the midst of an arm wrestling contest with some pirates, Florina and Serra snacking on a few pieces of hardtack, and Rebecca and Lowen loitering by a barrel of fresh water. Surrounded by bored sailors, Guy, Wil, and Raven throw dice while Priscilla observes several feet away. Eliwood eagerly talks to Captain Fargus, though Samuel can't make out the subject of their conversation due to distance.

Scratching the growing stubble underneath his chin, Samuel wonders about the location of the newest recruit to the army, his dear friend, Canas. Unbeknownst to Samuel, the practitioner of black magic had asked Eliwood back in Badon to hitch a ride on the pirate ship. He claimed to want passage to the Isle of Valor, but Samuel suspects that's not the case at all. Why would anyone want to go to that accursed place? Canas may have a studious heart...but this is too much...

Samuel wonders what his friend will think of him now. Much has happened since the last time they spoke, with the young tactician having gained additional strength to his name. He's even gone as far to build himself a swell reputation among the majority of his fellow soldiers. However, the damage to his mind, and by extension, his personality, may be too much to swallow all at once. Perhaps he should approach him at a later date once he has some time to acclimate to his fresh army life...

 _!_

"Pleasant mask of yours, Samuel. I can't believe it's held up through all this..."

Samuel swerves his head around and finds Canas standing on the opposite end of the crow's nest. His mouth goes wide open, and for a moment he feels like his mask is about to fly off of his face...

He says, "Woah! Canas! D-Don't call me that, I...go by the name Kenan Vacia. Most people just call me Lieutenant Vacia."

Pushing up his monocle to get a better look at his friend, Canas chuckles lightly. He says, "What an excellent arrangement you've got for yourself here, my friend. The world deals you a bad hand and you've gone out and earned yourself a position of power. I'm proud of you."

Samuel shakes his head, his mind unimpressed by his past accomplishments. He replies, "No, what I've done is minute compared to the efforts of my army. They go out and do most of the fighting my stead. If it weren't for the innate talent, stringent discipline, and shrewd demeanor contained within every single one of them, then I don't know where I'd be right now. Probably six feet in the dirt with no chance of ever rescuing my niece."

The mention of Samuel's niece wipes the smile from Canas' face. He clears his throat and holds down the burgeoning sense of dread building up in his gut.

He says, "Laniakea...yes. I came to Badon because the Fist informed me of a rumor that a dragonborne was being held deep underground in a compound somewhere at the Isle of Valor. Knowing this, I couldn't just sit idle. Especially since you didn't write like you said you would..."

 _Oh right, I said I would do that..._

Cautiously smirking, Samuel rubs the back of his head. He replies, "Yeah...sorry about that. I forgot..."

Canas doesn't roll his eyes, but the irises in his eyes are all it takes for Samuel to read his disappointment. The young tactician realizes that in between all the drama involving Laus, The Black Fang, and the army, he had forgotten about the friend he cherished. Samuel hangs his head in shame for being a terrible friend.

He says, "No...I'm really sorry. A lot's been going on lately. I had to deal with a multitude of issues that spread me out thin."

Canas sighs, "Well, it can't be helped. What matters is that I'm here to help you get Laniakea back. I didn't just leave my wife and kid back in Ilia for nothing."

Samuel nods his head, reaffirming to both himself and Canas his determination to get his niece back from the clutches of his supreme enemy. He says, "I truly, truly appreciate the sacrifice you and your family are making for us. With that being said, you really found us at the right time. We've discovered intelligence that the Black Fang have their headquarters somewhere at the Dread Isle. I suspect Nergal has Laniakea incarcerated here. Even if she isn't, we can probably find out her location by raiding their documents for any sign of her. That's provided we drive them out, however."

 _!_

"That's unlikely."

As if on cue, Matthew reveals himself from the underside of the wooden platform they are standing on. He wears a wide grin across his face, though the mere sight of him nearly gives both men a heart attack.

Samuel exclaims, "Hey! Where did you come from?!"

Matthew replies, "I've been staking out down here since dawn. I thought hanging from these little supports here would be a good workout. Your presence here turned out to be an extra treat."

Samuel groans and pinches his forehead. Of all the things this sneaky mole rat manages to pull on him, this proves to be the precipice of them all. He briefly considers stepping on his fingers with his boot, but his steaming head cools once a fresh breeze of ocean air courses through it. Taking a deep breath, he steps aside to let Matthew jump onto the platform alongside them.

His feet land flat on the platform, oddly doing so without making a sound. Samuel and Canas' eyes graze each other in curiosity towards this phenomenon, but neither muster the strength to convert this into words. Matthew extends his arms outward, stretching them in respite of the lactic acid built up inside his muscles.

He says, "Ahhh...oh! Is this your buddy, Samuel? Nice to meet you, my name is Matthew."

Canas responds by looking blankly at Samuel, his eyes reflecting a mixture of confusion and shock towards Matthew's mention of his friend's name. Suddenly, Samuel realizes he'd made a minor misstep. As the mutual acquaintance of both men, he should be the one breaking the ice, not Matthew.

Samuel says, "Matthew, this is Canas, a shaman I befriended back in Illia. Canas, this is Matthew. He's a nosy thief that always involves himself in my affairs. Please forgive me for any transgressions he may inflict towards you."

Matthew rolls his eyes at that remark. He summons his inner goofball and casually wraps his arms around Samuel. The act baffles him, momentarily stunning his reflexes.

He said, "Transgressions? Ah, man, here I was thinking you were my best friend. Why do you have to toy with me?"

Samuel pushes his...frenemy away. Matthew clearly enjoys pushing his buttons, though the irony isn't lost on him. This is the very same thing he did to Erk earlier, after all. Perhaps this is fate's way of balancing the scales of the world, but that's only a theory.

Samuel says, "You are most certainly not my best friend. Step back before I push you off, rabid fox."

The remark bounces off him like a low caliber bullet impacting a Tiger I tank. Instead, this only serves to encourage him further.

He says, "Ahhh, but if I am a fox, then you must be a rabbit. A very vain, white-haired mammal."

Samuel rolls his eyes and briefly considers punching Matthew in the face. However, such thoughts are beneath a man like him. Instead, he opts to change the subject, lest he continue to bear witness to Matthew's witty tongue.

He says, "Ugh, let's stray away from calling me a rabbit. Anyway, how's our progress en route to the Isle? We've been on the water for three days, and we can't be far now."

Matthew nods, and the three men look out towards the southwest. The endless seas look like a reminder of the distance yet to be traveled, and they let out a collective sigh.

Matthew says, "We still have about three days until our estimated arrival at the Isle. Unfortunately, our battle with boredom will continue until then."

Samuel replies, "Great...more time to lament over this unending sense of anxiety. I can't shake this unsettling feeling. I feel like something bad is going to happen."

Matthew agrees, "Indeed. Who knows what the Fang have in store for us? I'm not the religious sort, but I might pray by a goddess statue for some good luck."

Canas adds, "The Black Fang sound like a terrifying foe. I'll try to assist with my black magic, but I'm afraid we must rely on you, our dear tactician."

Samuel nods his head in silent understanding, and together, the men think about the powerful foe lurking past the horizon. The anxiety bears down on every individual in the army, the greatest portion falling upon Samuel. He feels the lives of every single one of his friends, acquaintances, and allies weigh down on his shoulders. His left hand shakes with a light shade of frights, but quick action from his metal prosthetic puts a stop to it…

Canas asks, "Samuel…do you think we're going to win this?"

Samuel pauses and grips his hands tight against the wooden railing surrounding the nest. He refuses to look either of his friends in the eye, and the uncertainty in his voice unsettles both.

Samuel said, "Canas, do you want me to be honest with you?"

Canas nodded, "Yes. I won't tell anyone."

"…"

Samuel clears his throat, his muscles tensing as if he'd activated a fight-or-flight response.

He says, "No."

* * *

 **Later…**

"Aye, are ye all right thar, lad? Ye look seasick."

Samuel breaks out of his inner, self-conceived bubble of thought. He looks around and realizes he had dozed off on a railing near the bow of the ship; the triangular, frontal portion of the vessel. Nearby, Captain Fargus looks over him with his white, scruffy beard dirtied from an unknown assortment of debris from who-knows-where. He still wears the same outfit Samuel had seen him in at the bar, though honestly, mostly everyone usually kept to one change of clothes thanks to the lack of laundry capabilities. Samuel had made it a habit to force the army to "Laundry days" every time they happened upon a village or a river, though that's a story for another time.

However, Samuel's perceived seasickness doesn't originate from the sea or the disgust he has towards the captain's clothes. Rather, it's from the worry he feels for the lives of his allies and niece. It ensnares his heart like a bear trap, gnawing at every vein. It's probably a marvellous thing the captain decided to speak to him since he desperately needed the brief respite from his own emotions.

Samuel groans and fidgets his mask to have it flushed more comfortably with his face. While doing so, Fargus briefly glimpses a flash of metal underneath a stray cut on Samuel's thick white glove, and the sight intrigues him.

He says, "Woah! I thought metal hands like those were only things o' dreams! Ye reckon ye can make a few fer me mates?"

Samuel rolls his eyes upon hearing this request. He's heard things like these many times over, and he always ends up giving the same answer.

He says, "I don't know, do your pirates have mana and do you have several hundreds of thousands of gold to spend?"

Fargus briefly takes a step back in shock for what the tactician had just said. Although he has the money to make such a thing possible, unfortunately none of his men can use magic. If they had, none of them would be here.

He says, "Eh, no…"

"Then you have your answer."

"…"

Samuel and Fargus both look out towards the water. Silence surrounds the pair, though neither leave. Eventually, Samuel finds it wise to do some impromptu maintenance on his hand, and upon retrieving a small screwdriver from his pack, begins tinkering. Fargus observes this with a childlike curiosity.

He says, "It looks amazin'. Ye know, me papa wanted me t' be an engineer afore I left t' join me first crew. Th' poor scallywag couldn't afford me books, so I couldn't go out t' achieve his dream."

Samuel pauses, his tool right over the magical battery near his wrist. He replies, "You don't do this line of work to achieve someone else's dream. You do it for the same reason you'd go into any other career. Interest into the subject, and monetary compensation. Any advancement for humanity comes secondary to that."

Fargus disagrees, his eyes reminding Samuel of his father, who had wanted to be a veterinarian despite not having the money to go to school. That man ended up going to trade school and making a living as a foreman, but that didn't stop him from dreaming.

Fargus says, "I ne'er wanted t' do it fer 'im. Twas a childhood dream o' mine t' design 'n build ships fer th' open water. That's why I decided t' become a pirate, ye see. I love th' ocean, 'n I love th' ships. It's not the same as bein' a ship designer, but I wouldn't trade this life fer anythin' else."

Those words make Samuel chuckle. He replies, "An engineer and a ship designer are two different things. Someone like me would make sure everything inside a ship works, while a designer would do the architectural work."

Fargus smiles and shrugs his shoulders. He says, "Hehe, 'tis all th' same t' me."

Samuel and Fargus look at each other, and as if on cue, break into laughter. The ice and foreignness between them both evaporate within an instant. They dwell into further small talk with their differing backgrounds and personalities distant in the backdrop.

Samuel asks, "So, what's your relation to Captain Whitney? I hear that the Davros and her crew share a relationship, and presumably that goes all the way to the top."

Fargus replies, "Yeah. She's me niece. I raised her since she was a wee poppet. I ne'er had a beauty nor child in me life, so I 'ave a lot o' pride in her. I was so proud when she decided t' follow in me footsteps! Don't ye reckon she's a stellar cap'n?"

Samuel agrees, his mind remembering how she efficiently led her crew even while under severe stress. He says, "Yup! She has nothing but my utmost respect. I assume her wit comes from her uncle?"

Fargs laughs, his hairy chest rising like a jolly old fool. He replies, "Nay. That's all her. I didn' do much other than give her a ship t' live on. Everythin' she knows be from her owns volition."

Samuel replies, "Hm. You know, it's my belief that people are the result of a combination of nature and nurture. In short, I think a lot of how we turn out as people comes from the parenting we receive as kids. You claim to have given her a hands-off approach, yet the environment you provided molded her into the person she became. It's also not far-fetched to think she may have manufactured her captaining style from watching you. You should give yourself credit, she's a fine woman."

 _!_

To Samuel's surprise, Captain Fargus blushes. He feels flattered by his compliments as a guardian, and the old man beams like a proud parent. A stray tear falls down the side of the captain's mustached face.

He says, "That means a lot comin' from a stranger like ye. Yer name be Kenan Vacia, right? How do ye know her? Are ye a freeman?"

A "freeman" is a former slave. The Davros and Whitney's crew are known to be a scourge to the slave trade throughout Elibe, and they have a history of specifically targeting slave ships so they could liberate their cargo besides confiscating any material goods.

Maintaining his cover and composure, Samuel nods his head. He says, "Yeah. She rescued me and my buddies off the coast of Carazan. I owe her a lot, to be honest."

Intrigued, Fargus raises a brow. He says, "Ye? A former slave? I ne'er would've known, young scallywag. Ye carry yourself like a college-educated sort. Someone from a wealthy family, and far away from th' trafficked areas o' town."

Samuel balks, "Eh—well you're half right. I did go to university, but my family wasn't rich. They're...somewhere in the middle. Unfortunately, none of them are here anymore because of the war in my home country. It's just me now, though I'm with Eliwood's army so I can rescue my last remaining family member. My niece...that is."

Fargus raises his head in sympathetic concern. He says, "This niece o' yers. She be held by th' Black Fang?"

Samuel nods, "She is. The enemy are powerful and plentiful. I could very well die from this journey. Yet, I'm moved to go out and rescue her, anyway. I...I care about her a lot. Probably more than anyone else..."

Probably more than Lyn...

Saying those words unnerve him, yet Samuel can't deny its truth. He loves Laniakea. She's like a daughter to him, and he feels like she's his own flesh and blood. It doesn't matter to him she really isn't.

Fargus says, "Kenan, I can see where ye're comin' from. I hope ye're reunited wit' her."

"T-Thank you..."

The duo fall into silence, the sounds of the surrounding ocean and other conversations take prominence in their stead. Subconsciously, both men shift their gazes towards the other passengers on the ship. Samuel focuses on the sailors manning the ropes hanging high from the masts above, while Fargus eyes the colorful personalities that made up the guest army. He spies two pairs of people speaking to one another, both of which carried qualities reminiscent of each other.

Fargus says, "Aye, Kenan. Do ye see wha' I see?"

Samuel replies, "Well, I see one of your mates hanging from a rope like a monkey. What of it?"

Fargus sighs, "No, ye bat. I be natterin' about those scallywags o' thar. Those sprogs wit' red hair, are they related?"

Samuel shifts his gaze towards the ship's quarterdeck. Priscilla and Raven are sitting on the underlying staircase with their backs away from the captain's wheel. They're talking about something, though Raven continued to maintain his frosty demeanor in juxtaposition to Priscilla's feminine grace.

Samuel says, "I don't think so, but come to think of it, their resemblance is uncanny. Their hair is the same shade of red, and their jaws look similar, too. If I didn't know that Priscilla came from royalty, I'd make the same assumption, too."

Fargus says, "Meh, I don't know. It jus' seems too much o' a coincidence t' not be th' case. I mean, jus' look at those two o'er thar. Dart's natterin' up a storm wit' one o' yer archers."

Dart (Fargus' first mate) and Rebecca are standing by a railing on the port side of the deck. Just like before, Samuel can't make out what they're talking about, though their appearance has several things of note.

Samuel says, "Oh my. Their faces are...look...oddly similar..."

Shock grips Samuel's psyche. The idea of Dart being Rebecca's older brother Dan streaks across his mind like a comet in the night sky. He has an overbearing desire to reveal this to his friend, though his limbs feel numb from the very thought of it.

Fargus says, "Huh? Kenan, ye look so pale…"

Samuel closes his hand to stimulate some sense from it. He gets a little feeling back, though not much.

 _Why...am I being consumed with this overbearing sense of dread. I shouldn't be feeling this way...yet..._

Samuel's eyes Dart's bandana that's firmly wrapped around his entire head...

He says, "Captain Fargus, what color is Dart's hair? I can't quite make it out from this far away."

Fargus replies, "It's mostly black, but there are individual strands of green tucked within. If I'm not wrong, I think it's the same shade as that girl there."

"..."

Samuel grips his hand tight. He knows what he has to do. He starts walking over towards the two, leaving the idle Captain behind.

Fargus says, "Hey! Where are ye goin'?"

Samuel replies, "I've got to go do something. It's really important. Nice talk, though. I had fun…"

 _…_

Samuel approaches the pair, his feet growing heavy with every step. He doesn't understand why he feels this way. Telling these people of what he knows should be a simple open and shut case. However, every added foot in distance put on another layer of dread to the young tactician's soul, eventually compounding to where Samuel has to put his hand on the side railing so he wouldn't collapse from the sheer weight of it all.

 _What's going on?_

Samuel feels like some force is attempting to dissuade him from acting out his will. It grips his soul with a leash composed of nails, though Samuel feels defiant in the face of it. He knows how much Rebecca wants to find her brother Dan, and he'll be damned if he didn't help her out.

Samuel inches closer, the extremities of his body now as cold as ice. He's about to be within earshot of the pair when...

 _!_

 _My heart..._

Samuel pauses and clutches his left breast. Pressure crashes down on his chest in an instant, and all of his strength evaporates. His head sways upon catching a strong gust of wind, and his body falls onto the railing. Samuel's rendered helpless as his body teeters over the edge like a fulcrum between life and death.

Gasping for air, Samuel mutters, "Heart...attack..."

Samuel's gaze meets with Rebecca, whose expression quickly transforms from one of intrigue to one of sheer terror. She reaches her hand towards him like she could close the distance within an instant, but alas. She's only human.

Rebecca's green eyes are the last thing Samuel sees before he tips over the railing. He falls into the underlying water in a deafening splash. Water and floods through Samuel's lungs, and eventually, he sinks deep into a sea of darkness...

 _..._

* * *

 **?...**

 _Where am I..._

Samuel his eyes, his instincts suggesting to him that he's in the void again, as the darkness around him reminds him of that plane of chaos. However, a simple wave with his hand quickly debunks this theory. Cold sensations surround his limbs with every movement, this being in stark contrast to the lack of stimuli present in the void. In addition, the space around feels like it carries actual substance to it, as if he were wading through water as opposed to barely substantive molasses. In summary, it's difficult to move in a drastic manner.

 _Am I...underwater?_

Samuel takes in a deep breath, surprised when he's rewarded with fresh air. Despite the veil of confusion on his soul, he still feels oddly at ease with himself. All the anxieties in his life had vanished, leaving behind a spiritual vessel void of the negative attributes of his past.

 _This place...feels so peaceful. I feel like I can be here forever..._

For a moment, Samuel lets himself be consumed by this sense of goodwill. He closes his eyes and melts away into the surrounding environment...

 _..._

 _…._

 _...…_

 _What am I doing...?_

Samuel opens his eyes and shakes himself from his self-imposed complacency. He reminds himself of the niece for whom he risked life and limb to save. Overwhelmed with emotion, he opens his mouth to scream atop his lungs. His voice echoes across the sea of darkness, reaching every idle corner within the black space.

"HEY! WHERE AM I?! WHY AM I HERE!?"

"..."

Samuel waits patiently as the surrounding water gradually swishes around with energy. The hairs on his arms point outward from goosebumps, and suddenly, he spots a faint light in the sea of darkness. It's red like that of a dying sun, though it carries an aura that feels overwhelming. Samuel watches as the light nears, revealing a youthful woman with long red hair, ominous red eyes, an elegant black/white dress, and a small green headdress on top of her head. She has a tall frame, reminding him of a mother-like figure he used to know as a child.

The woman glides over to Samuel, maintaining a distance comparable to that of a professor speaking over a class full of students. She carries herself in a manner to imply superiority to the young tactician, and although this display didn't sit well with him, he keeps his mouth shut.

Samuel says, "Hello ma'am. Who are you?"

The woman looks at Samuel with an expression that feels both cold, and unfeeling. She says, "Hello, my name is Ashera. I'm what you could consider the goddess of this world. I look over it, and make sure the natural order of things stay the way they are. You don't remember this, but this isn't the first time we've met. Do you recall that day? The day we met?"

Samuel's eyes shoot wide open, though it's not in response to the beauty of the woman before him. He can't believe what this woman is telling him. Never in his life has he ever recalled running into lady named "Ashera," much less someone claiming to be the ruling goddess of Elibe. He strains his mind looking for any evidence to the contrary, eventually settling on an instance that happened long ago among the destruction of the Taliver.

 _That voice...I think it sounds familiar..._

Samuel says, "No way, are you the being that spoke to me in Sacae? The woman who told me what I needed to do to save Laniakea?"

This seems like the obvious answer, and thankfully, this proves to be the case. Ashera nods her head politely, though not too politely as to imply inferiority.

She says, "Indeed, though that is not the first time I spoke to you. Do you recall the moment when you first passed onto this world from your own? The words I used to comfort your lost soul as it transmuted through the vast expanses of the void?"

Samuel hesitates, his mind feeling fragmented from the perceived absurdity of this self-proclaimed god's words. Every fiber in his body tells him to discard this being as some looney fragment of his imagination. He has sufficient reason to believe this, anyway. This isn't the first time his mind's played games with him.

Samuel says, "The only person who knows about that is me. It appears that my mind is giving me one last hallucination before I drown. What a pity..."

Samuel sighs and wraps his arms around his icy body. He shivers as the trickle of cold gradually transforms into a surrounding veil of suffocating water. It robs his person of every last vestige of warmth, turning his skin into a clammier version of itself reminiscent of death.

Samuel mutters, "I...I wonder if I'll come back as a ghost. I had a rough time in life, and there's so much I wanted to do. It's a shame, don't you think?"

He looks directly in Ashera's complacent red eyes. She does nothing but raise her chin.

She says, "Rest assured, I am not a figment of your imagination. I come bringing news. Due to your homunculi status, your body is denser than a normal human body, and as such you are sinking faster into the salty water than normal. This alone should be a death sentence. However, despite your cursed status, you were fortunate enough to be within the proximity of one of the strongest swimmers among the Davros. The young man's fishing you out of the water as we speak, as is the will of fate."

Samuel scoffs, "Fate? You think I believe in something like that? My will is mine alone."

Upon hearing Samuel's defiant words, Ashura looks deep into his eyes. The power behind them astounds him, if only for a moment.

She says, "Your arrogance will be your downfall, my child. I implore you to watch your words. You may hold some sway over your fate because of your status as an agent of chaos, but you won't gain anything by making an enemy out of me. In fact, you should be wanting for my help. I know things that can be of great importance to you."

 _Agent of chaos...?_

Although skeptical, Samuel entertains this lady's willingness to dispel knowledge. He asks, "Oh? My apologies, then. You called me an agent of chaos earlier. Why is that?"

Samuel swears to see Ashura smile lightly, but if she partook in the act, the expression vanished within a second. She replies, "Ah, how observant you are. I'm afraid I let that escape my lips earlier than intended. Oh well, there isn't much time left for you here. It's time for you to leave the heavenly plane and enter the mortal one once more."

"Wha—?"

 _!_

"Ack!"

Samuel lurches forward as black liquid spurts from his mouth. He breaks into one of the most vicious coughing fits of his life, and Samuel realizes that at least in this respect, Ashera spoke words of truth. His chest aches as though someone were giving him CPR, or something even more drastic like a heart massage. Meanwhile, liquid oozes from his mouth, expelling from a seemingly bottomless pit originating inside his lungs.

He raises his head in a desperate attempt to solicit help from Ashera, but all she does is look back with that same stony expression across her face. Perhaps this is a punishment for the arrogance he displayed earlier, or the result of muffled sympathy. Regardless, the image of her gradually becomes hazy, eventually giving way to a bright, yellow light.

Bright...like the sun hanging over an open sky...

* * *

Cough! Cough!

Gasping for air, Samuel opens his eyes to see the sun basking him with its warm light. He sees white sails full of wind, and fluffy clouds resembling snow-topped hills. His eyes dance around the fuzzy figures surrounding his waterlogged body. Erk, Canas, Rebecca, and Lyn were all nearby with their faces wrought with concern. A single man stands on top of him with his hands directly over Samuel's chest.

He says, "Argh! I think he's awake! Captain Fargus!"

Samuel immediately recognizes his likely savior as Dart, the suspected brother to Rebecca. His hands are above his chest because he'd just finished performing CPR, though the man wasn't able to do mouth-to-mouth due to the binding magic keeping his mask to his face. His clothes drip with the same saltwater that make Samuel's white robe heavy, and, for a moment, Samuel almost forgets about the lack of air in his lungs...

Cough! Cough!

Dart's eyes widen with shock, and he instinctively moves out of the way. Samuel quickly rises from his formerly incapacitated state on the floorboards and makes a beeline towards the nearby railing. He somehow squeaks out the incantation needed to release the binding magic, and he firmly removes the mask from his face. Taking great care to not reveal his true identity, he turns his face away from the crowd and vomits a mixture of water and bile into the blue sea below...

The crew and army look on in silent astonishment. Only a few of them had ever seen Samuel without his concealing white mask on, though no one dared to approach him. Some feared to cross that unspoken line, while others didn't want to abuse this moment of visible vulnerability. Some of the more squeamish members of the army turn away to save themselves of the grim sight...

Lyn frowns, and the concern in her heart nearly compels her to step forward to raise his long white hair from his face. However, she stands her ground. Samuel didn't need her help since someone had already set off towards him.

 _!_

Gasping for air, Samuel receives some relief as he senses someone rub his back. The same force also lifts his hair, whispering honeyed words into his ear.

Erk says, "Come on, man. Easy there."

Samuel feels appreciation towards his friend, but is incapable of stringing together a sentence. He continues to rid himself of the sickness inside his gut, ever grateful of the uptight mage by his side...

...

"Agh..."

Samuel sighs as he rubs his face. Looking around, he observes the deck which sprawls out with people once again; the audience having since dispersed once they realized the tactician was okay. They continue about their day unabated with their spirits unshaken from the earlier scare.

Samuel breathes a mental sigh of relief as he leans his head back against the rail he was just lurched over several minutes ago. He's glad that the atmosphere is back to normal. The callow man never enjoyed being the center of attention, so this is about as good as it could have gone...

"That was rough, what happened back there?"

Samuel turns to face Erk, who's sitting beside him on the same railing. Canas, Rebecca, and Matthew also stand nearby.

Samuel replies, "I...I don't know. I was walking to tell Rebecca something when I felt this sudden compression in my heart. I think I had a heart attack."

Canas says, "A heart attack? That's not good at all. How do you feel? Are you faint?"

Samuel shakes his head, taking the time to clasp his fist together. He senses the warmth radiating from his fingertips, and the ease in airways with each iteration of breath. He feels healthy...

Samuel says, "No, I actually feel really good. I...I have no idea how something like that could've happened. I never had any heart problems."

Frowning, Rebecca anxiously places her hands over her heart. She says, "I'm so sorry, Lieutenant Vacia. You might've never fallen into the sea if I were more observant of your weakness. I'm just...glad you're okay."

Samuel replies, "No worries. It was the efforts of you and Dart that secured my survival. I should be thanking you, if nothing else."

Rebecca breathes a sigh of relief. She says, "Hearing those words...set me at ease. I must ask, what were you going to tell me? It must have some importance."

Samuel nods, his head still a bit weary from the salty ocean water. He says, "Yeah, it was about you and Dart. I think he might be your—"

 _!_

Suddenly, the compression in his chest returns. It tightens his arteries past the point of comfort, suffocating him with its force.

 _Has my warning not been enough for you?_

Samuel hears a voice in his head. It's from Ashura, and although her words feel as cold as a glacier, he didn't detect a hint of contempt from them.

Every action that deviates too much from fate's will must be balanced in some way. If your action creates good, then evil must come back to neutralize the environment. That is the law of Order, and you will follow it, my child.

Rebecca raises her brow. She asks, "Lieutenant, you were saying something?"

Eager to rid his body of discomfort, Samuel fakes the best smile he can muster. He replies, "N-No! I was just...going to remark on how well the weather is doing today! We're blessed to be traveling through calm seas!"

Samuel closes his eyes as the pain vanishes the instant the last word leaves his mouth. Meanwhile, Rebecca and the others carry on, oblivious to their tactician's suffering. Frantic to change the subject to a less-dangerous thing, Samuel doubles down on his earlier mention of the ocean.

Pointing his finger west, Samuel says, "Don't you guys think that looks cool? I haven't seen these seas since my adolescence in Carazan. It's as wide and open as ever. Just like the plains of Sacae..."

 _Sacae..._

The thought of that place reminds Samuel of Lyn, of whom he still hadn't spoken to in almost four weeks. The previous freeze in their relationship ballooned into full-on frostbite, with neither party comfortable in approaching the other. At this rate, their lover status nears the point of no return. If neither opens a line of dialogue soon, an inevitable break up would soon follow.

Samuel shakes his head. Lyn doesn't deserve that. No, he doesn't deserve that. If he and Lyn were to end their relationship, it should be on a basis of mutual understanding, not of neglect. He'll force himself to talk with her today, or even right after he's done here with his friends...

 _!_

Matthew says, "Hey, Samuel. Do you still have your spyglass there? I think I see something."

Putting his previous thought on hold, Samuel retrieves a pair of waterlogged binoculars from his pack. He peers through it onto the wide expanse of the ocean. What he sees defies any explanation of logic and reasoning in his brain.

A girl floats idly atop a small wooden boat. Her snowy skin's shows signs of severe sunburn from prolonged exposure, though her blue hair shines brightly from the same quantity of light. Samuel recognizes her immediately, the shock of which compels him to drop his binoculars.

 _No way..._ He thought.

 _Ninian?!_


	71. Dread Ship

**Chapter 65: Dread Ship**

 **By SodiumChlouride12, derived from Fire Emblem, owned by Nintendo.**

 **A/N: Hey guys! I'm going to take a break next week. It's not that I'm burnt out or anything, but I've been working on a new rom hacking project that I'd like to get done in a week. To be blunt, it's a playable version of this story up to the finale of Lyn's story...**

 **I** **might release it if I find it suitable for public consumption. It's coming along nicely, and I'm leaning towards that possibility currently. So far, I've made some unique supports and new levels in this tact-hack. I hope to do much more! If y'all are interested in playing this, be sure to let me know!**

 **N: The crew bring Ninian's unconscious body aboard the ship. Ever mindful of his cover, Samuel watches from a safe distance away...**

* * *

 _The following is an excerpt from Lord Elbert's diary, several days before Ninian's discovery over the Southern Sea..._

 _September 3rd, 982..._

 _My name is Elbert, reigning marquess of my beloved Pharae. Although I consider writing down such information trivial, nowadays it's one of the few things I can do to remind myself of my past. Being a prisoner here in the Gulak has robbed me of all the comforts of my previous noble life, though thankfully, I stand firm despite the torture they have subjected me to. However, I cannot say the same for others inside this prison..._

 _I hear the screams of Nergal's political enemies, insubordinate Fang, and Elimine knows what through the walls of my small, cubic cell. Some cry for the mercy of the Creator, while others cry for their mother. One person, of whom sounded like a junior girl, shrieked out the name of what I assume to be her uncle. This is only a theory, however, since at her weakest moments she'll call him her father instead..._

 _I...am disturbed by all this. Had I known that I'd bear witness to these atrocities, I think I would have steered clear from establishing my dream of a republic. Now, here I lay, rotting away. Is this the cost of democracy? The cost of liberty?_

 _Thank the Goddess that everything isn't all bad. Nergal decided to have two children occupy this cell as well. Their names are Ninian and Nils, and if it weren't for them, I think I surely would've succumbed to my demons by now._

 _I must admit, their presence makes me strong. Nergal's words have depressed their innocent minds, and I feel I have to serve as an anchor for them to fall upon for support. I spend our time together relaying to them tales from my native Pharae, along with several pertaining to my dear son, Eliwood. The twins seem to latch on to my son as a pillar of good in a world filled with evil, and although I know Eliwood wouldn't accept such praise, I don't think he'll reject it, either. He doesn't know this, but it was partly because of inspiration from his name I convinced these two from taking their own lives. My son's a good lad..._

 _Oh Eliwood, how I miss him and my dear Eleanora. I long for the day we can be happy in our castle, when we can enjoy the fantastic landscape of our home. How foolish I was to work the Black Fang. How foolish..._

 _My lapse in judgement may have failed me then, but it won't now. I've been spending the last several months pouring little bits of soup onto the bars that keep us restrained inside. I do this since I understand that the liquid is slightly acidic, and over time, the bars have rusted to where I can bust them open with some force. Tonight...I will break open the bars and have the children escape. I've grown to adore them greatly, and I'd rather they leave so Nergal doesn't exploit them for his plans. Unfortunately, I'm afraid I cannot go with them. My legs are still far too weak from my previous escape attempt, and I'd only slow them down._

 _This will likely be my last entry. Nergal will be cross when he notices in a few days, though I will do my best to feign their presence with the little illusion magic I have left. I used to use these tricks to solicit some laughs from my wife long ago, but now I use them to fool the fangsman who looks over our cell every few hours. I need to buy them as much time as possible, and it will take every ounce of concentration from my part to conserve my mana. I think I can give them a week at most. We will see..._

 _May the Creator make it so. Dear Goddess, will you protect my son? Will you protect the children?_

* * *

"Ninian!"

Lyn grabs ahold of Ninian, whose dazed body flutters in and out of consciousness on the top deck. The army, along with several sailors, linger nearby, curious about the sudden appearance of a maiden. She had appeared atop a small boat drifting across the Southern Sea, though with no oars or any other means to propel the vessel. She carries an aura of mystery around her, and the few people that knew her onboard desire answers.

Serra taps the arm of Erk, who's looking at the scene with a concerned pair of eyes. She asks, "Erk...isn't that the girl we ran into earlier? What is she doing here?"

Erk shrugs his shoulders, his mind empty. He replies, "I'm not sure. She's the last person I thought we would run into out here."

Nearby, Samuel and Matthew observe silently from the back of the crowd. They wear stony expressions across their face, though Samuel has a hint of dread about his. He feels like something bad's about to happen, though he can't determine why.

He tells Matthew, "A girl we knew suddenly appears unconscious en route to our journey to the Isle. This has the Black Fang all over it.."

Matthew replies, "That's a fair assessment. However, I get the feeling you know more than you let on. Is there something I should know?"

Samuel sighs. He lowers his voice so that only Matthew would hear. He says, "Yeah, it's that Ninian is Ner—"

 _!_

Suddenly, Samuel feels his heart crunch up with the force of a black hole. It compels him to stop, much to the curiosity of his listener.

 _What?_ Samuel thought. _I can't tell him about this?_

Raising a brow, Matthew asks, "Hm? Did you say something?"

Samuel shakes his head and breathes a mental sigh of relief when the pain evaporates. He replies, "No, it's nothing. Just a passing thought, that's all."

In reality, it definitely isn't a passing thought. Samuel almost got away with relaying a vital piece of information to Matthew, and had he done so, that surely would have altered their course. However, an "invisible hand" prevents him from speaking his peace, serving as a direct form of censorship towards the young tactician. He loathes this direct influence on his life, and he finds himself hating the force behind it.

 _Damn you, Naga. You and your blasted fate. If this ends up killing someone, I will make sure the next time we meet is in Hell..._

Samuel and Matthew refocus their energies towards the situation developing nearby. Silently, the young tactician appreciates that his earlier event won't prove to be the most shocking of the day, but he keeps this thought to himself. He eyes Captain Fargus, Dart, Eliwood, and Hector, who stand near Ninian's semi-comatose state.

Eliwood asks the captain, "This boat, from what direction did it come from? It has no sail nor oar."

Fargus replies, "A dory doesn't need either o' those thin's t' traverse through th' water. Ocean currents are enough t' do that. I can say that judgin' from those, this beauty came from th' Isle."

Eliwood's eyes faintly shoot open. He says, "Wh—What? It's not a coincidence then. What are the odds we'd run into her again?"

Hector raises his brow. He's unaware of any previous history between Eliwood and this mysterious blue-haired maiden. He asks, "Huh? Do you know her?"

Eliwood nods, "She's how I met Lyndis a year back. I rescued her from a band of bandits that were giving them trouble..."

Lyn shakes Ninian lightly to solicit some response from her. She resembles a clammy rag doll under the care of a tender owner, though she continues to stay unresponsive to her attention.

"Ninian, open your eyes…!"

Speaking to his friend again, Samuel mutters, "The poor girl looks dehydrated. There's no telling how long she's been out at sea. Honestly, there's a good chance she's already past the point of no return."

Matthew replies, "Huh. I'd double check that assessment, Dr. Vacia. I think I see her moving."

 _!_

To Samuel's astonishment, Ninian squirms a bit and opens her eyes. Her body quivers slightly from lack of strength, but she musters unforeseen will. Meeting Lyn's pair of green with her red, she says, "...Ah..."

Lyn exclaims, "Ninian! Can you hear me?!"

"...Unnnn...I..."

Lyn says, "How are you feeling? Why were you on that boat? Where is Nils?"

"Ah..."

Ninian seems unfamiliar with her surroundings, and that of herself. Lyn recognizes the aura around her as the same one worn by Samuel when they first met, and quickly, she starts piecing things together. Ninian's an amnesiac, just like the man he met in her ger so long ago.

She mutters, "I...see..."

Eliwood approaches Lyn and puts his finger over Ninian's wrist. He feels a pulse, though faint. He says, "Lyndis, something's wrong with her. I think she might be delirious."

Lyn rests her eyes somberly on Ninian's still, red orbs. Pity encapsulates her heart, and she consciously feels her boots scraping against the dry floorboards of the ship. Even though her and Ninian weren't close friends, she still feels an immense sense of worry for her. She wants to do anything she can to help her...

Lyn says, "You're...probably right. She's lost her memory, but I think she might get it back if we give her some food and drink. Can you arrange that? I'm aware two of your subjects have a talent for cooking delicious meals."

Eliwood smiles, his mind shifting over towards the pair of green-haired cooks from Pharae. He replies, "I think they'll be elated to do that. I'll ask them immediately..."

Samuel sighs and turns his back towards the crowd. The situation seems to be coming to a suitable conclusion, and it no longer requires his attention. He wipes some perspiration from his bow, thankful for the return to normalcy…

Matthew asks, "Hey, where do you think you're going?"

Samuel replies, "I'm going to the hold to get some fresh water. It's noon, so I need to make my midday tea. Do you want some?"

Matthew pauses for a moment to consider his tactician's proposition. He never particularly liked Samuel's brand of green tea, but there aren't many other recreational options aboard the Davros' ship. Boredom is a constant thing many seafarers deal with regularly, though it's almost always glossed over when trying to recruit new sailors. Perhaps that's why so many of them drown in gallons of ale whenever they can. It's significantly harder for a man to wallow in boredom when they're drunk.

Matthew says, "Yeah, I think I will. Not like there's anything else going on..."

 _!_

BOOM!

Suddenly, a huge quack rocks the ship. The ship swerves to the right, creating enough of an angle to compel a top to roll over to the side. Luckily, however, the angle isn't extreme enough to push any people off of their feet. The crowd of people come to a pressed silence, unsure of what had just happened.

Samuel asks, "What...was that?"

Matthew replies uneasily, "I...don't know. I think the ship just got hit. Did we run aground?"

Samuel shakes his head. "I doubt it. The ship's still moving, though not as fast anymore. It's like we hit a mine..."

Dart extracts a handheld telescope from his pocket and peers over the blue sea. He searches in every direction, resting his gaze at a patch of water in the northwest.

He exclaims, "Captain! Pirate ships approaching for the northwest! Unknown colors, too. The only thing I can conclude is their hostility."

Samuel feels his gut sink. A drip of anxious sweat falls down the side of his face, and he waits patiently for the words of the pirate captain. Unlike him, he must admit, he's a much more capable leader. He should know what to do...

Captain Fargus scoffs, "They must be mad! Nobody attacks the Davros and gets away with it! These seas belong to us!"

As if on cue, a member of the Davros comes from below deck. His sailor's outfit drips with seawater and white salt stains his reddish-brown hair. His panicked voice contrasts greatly with the stoic confidence of his captain.

He exclaims, "Water! There's been a breach in the hull! We're taking in water!"

Fargus loses a bit of a punch to his stature after hearing those words, but maintains his integrity. He shouts back, "What? Take care of it then. I'll carve these scallywags into gizzards!"

The man replies, "No! We need all hands below deck, or we'll sink! We must act quickly!"

Captain Fargus growls and balls up his fist. For a moment, Samuel wonders if he wanted to punch a hole through his ship's railing. Instead, he points his finger at him, barking at him like an army sergeant.

"You! You and your army have the deck! Deal with the enemy while we keep our feet dry! This is my beloved ship, so don't fuck this up!"

Samuel's mouth hits the floor as Fargus and the rest of the pirates disappear below deck. He goes silent as the entire army look to him for guidance, and although Samuel feels stressed out of his mind, the only thing they see is the blank mask covering his face...

Samuel takes in a deep breath and exhales. He leaves Matthew's side and approaches the crowd congregated around Ninian. He motions his hand towards Lyn…

He says, "Lyn, I ask that you put Ninian in that room over there. We'd do well not to have her around in the fighting."

Going into battle-mode, Lyn obliges. She takes the blue-haired girl and puts her out of harm's way. Satisfied with that, Samuel turns back towards the rest of the army.

He says, "Ok. I wasn't expecting to fight until we reached the Isle, but fate's a bitch sometimes. I want everyone to go into siege formation. When the enemy inevitably latches onto our vessel with boarding planks, every heavily armored unit needs to be present at every point of entry. Florina will skirmish at her own discretion, and ranged troops will support from the back line. I want the healers and Merlinus to stay near the center of the ship. Erm, is that man still here?"

Samuel notices the mustached man huddling by a few crates of ale. He raises his hands towards the sky and shouts, "I am here!"

Samuel replies, "All right, you will serve the very important role of making sure our soldiers are sufficiently armed. The sturdy railing and masts means we're going to break a lot of blades on this ship, and there's plenty of places for someone to get their weapon stuck. Other than that, just keep your head. You're no use to us dead."

Samuel claps his hands together, letting the sting in his left hand radiate throughout his body. He doesn't do so out of motivation for himself or the army, but in anger. He's angry for the path that fate has him in now, and for the future he's bound for. The lack of numbing potion in his system doesn't help, either.

He exclaims, "I have no idea what's going on here! But I don't care! Let's win this battle so we can get to the Isle! Who's with me?!"

The entire army raises their fists in the air in unison. They cry, "YEAAAAAAAH!"

* * *

 **Later...**

"Hmph!"

Samuel grits his teeth as hot metal bounces off the side of a blade and lands on his mask. The glowing substance stains his white covering a distinct shade of black, resembling a dirty coal-like drip of paint on canvas. He takes a step back from his bout with an enemy swordsman, his tongue tasting crimson on his upper lip.

He exclaims, "You crummy Black Fang! Why won't you just leave this girl alone!"

To Samuel's further frustration, the fangsman doesn't respond. Instead, he readies his stance again and tightens his black bandana closer to his face. His eyes dance around his opponent's body, searching for a weakness around his armor.

Feeling high on his emotions, Samuel punches the left side of his breastplate. He says coldly, "Oh? Why won't you come fight me? Come on! Hit me! Are you too chicken?!"

 _!_

Samuel feels a light tug on his cloak, and he turns around to see Serra. The pink haired cleric approaches him because she had noticed his newfound aggressive personality while healing Dorcas of some flesh wounds. Sporting a posture reminiscent of a cocky high schooler, she looks like someone looking for trouble.

She says, "Hiiiiiya, Lieutenant! Someone's a bit feisty today! Did you skip breakfast?"

"Move it, Serra!"

Samuel takes his left hand and faintly pushes Serra behind him. While doing so, his attacker raises his blade and swings it with every ounce in his body. Putting himself between the cleric and force that desired to harm her, he catches the blade with his hand in an awkward angle. He winces with displeasure as pain surrounds a familiar joint in his right shoulder.

"EEEEEEEEEEEK!"

Hardly able to realize the extent of his injury, his ears ring as Serra screams in fright. She leaps back like a cat and points her staff towards his foe, as if doing that could fell him.

She exclaims, "Oh no! Kenan!"

Woosh! Bif!

An arrow flies through the air and firmly implants itself into the fangsman's temple, killing him instantly. Breathing irritated breathes as Samuel drops the fallen's blade onto the ground, he looks back towards his savior. He notices Wil sending a short wave his way before shifting his gaze back towards other threats nearby.

By Elimine...thank you, Wil. You saved my hide...

"What theatrics! Thank you for saving me!"

Feeling gratitude towards her "hero", Serra wraps Samuel in a tight hug. Unfortunately for him, his injured shoulder made it difficult to resist. Instead, his face turns a distinct shade of red, and he nears ever closer to his explosive breaking point.

Gritting his teeth, Samuel says, "Serra, please get off me. I didn't have my tea this afternoon, and I think I'm about to—"

Pouting, she tightens her grip around the squirming tactician. She playfully takes the part of a grateful damsel in distress, though Samuel does not willingly play along.

She said, "You should stop squirming. I'm the fairest maiden in the whole army, after all! Let this princess thank her knight for his service..."

Samuel grits his teeth, smoke virtually expelling from his ears. "Serra…we're in a war zone. If you don't…"

Struggling, Samuel does his best to cover up the building rage in his veins. It feels like his soul's pushing on a dam bustling with his aggressive emotions, though the structure itself strains with every passing moment. He silently hopes that someone will come along to save him, or better yet to convince Serra to heal the shoulder injury he'd sustained in her stead. Perhaps someone like Erk could muster the will to pry her off him...

However, sometimes fact is stranger than fiction.

 _!_

"Serra, may you please spare the tactician of your advances?"

Samuel turns his gaze towards his right, and he finds Lyn standing a scant distance away from him. She has several cuts across her arms and upper body, along with a large red mark across her forehead. Samuel thinks it's what left of a mild blow delivered from a sword's hilt, though this is just a guess. Regardless, Lyn has an unforgettably cold aura around her. The sight sends a chill down both Serra and the tactician.

Clearing her throat, Lyn says, "Did you misunderstand? By the looks of it, his shoulder is injured. Can you please ease the pain Kenan bares? I need some help too, so I'd appreciate it if you give some haste."

Wary to get on her superior's unpleasant side, Serra unlatches herself from Samuel's damaged body. He nearly collapses upon realizing relief, though he doesn't have much time to gather his bearings. His stature reduced to one knee, the cleric pesters him with questions about his wound.

She asks, "Where is the pain? Where do I need to heal you?"

Breathing staggered breaths, Samuel replies, "M-My right shoulder. I think I have a torn rotator cuff."

Serra tilts her head in confusion. She's not familiar with medical terms, though to be fair, neither is Priscilla. Or really anyone besides Samuel.

She asks, "Rotator cuff? What's that?"

"JUST HEAL MY SHOULDER!"

Obliging his wishes, Serra whispers her healing incantation. A ball of light emerges from her staff and surrounds a small area surrounding Samuel's wound, closing the tear within it easily. The tactician smiles softly as the nagging pain that plagued him evaporates, as does the anger in his body. The comforting feeling in Serra's divine magic manages to ice up his fiery head, if only for a short while.

Samuel says, "Ahh...thank you. Please go treat the princess while I face off against the next fangsman standing over the boarding plank..."

The boarding plank is one of two the Fang uses to board their ship from the West. On the East, another pair of planks connected their vessel to the allied army, as does another from the south. Curiously, the forces from the West compose of nothing but dark-magic wielding shamans, while the eastern ship carries sword-wielding mercenaries. The southern ship has both. Since Samuel has a fantastic advantage against fellow mages, he opted to come here to fight, though the earlier swordsman oddly seemed out of place.

 _He must've got on the wrong ship when they disembarked. That means they were in a hurry. So this is how much importance Nergal has towards Ninian..._

"Aaaaaand done! You're all set, Lady Lyn!"

Serra lifts her staff up proudly as her patient stretches her arms. Just like Samuel, she too experienced an unbearable amount of pain, though she had the tenacity to keep it to herself. That realization makes Samuel lower his head in shame, since his pain tolerance caved in the instant his anger took ahold of him.

Turning her back towards them both, Serra walks away. She chides, "Okay! I'll see you guys later! I think our guys on the southern flank need a good healing, so I'll leave you two here alone. Have fun!"

Samuel hesitates...

 _Have fun?!_

 _..._

 _Wait, where's the others?!_

Samuel looks around, first to his left and then towards his right. Originally, he, Lucius, Will, and Guy manned this front. He remembers Lucius leaving to deal with the reinforcements in the southern flank, and Guy getting treatment at Priscilla's behest. All that left was him and Wil, though that man seems to have left to deal with other threats...

 _Phooey. Everyone either got hurt or rotated out. Woe is me..._

"Samuel?"

Bursting out of his internal bubble of concentration, Samuel meets his gaze with Lyn. She stands there meekly as if to recognize the chilly atmosphere between the two, though she evidently feels hesitant in saying anything else but his name. Samuel opens his mouth to say something...but his nerves reign supreme. They stare at each other in what can only be described as an accidental contest to determine which would blink first...

"..."

"..."

Their eyes dash away, and then at each other like barons fighting for air supremacy. The air around them seems to void itself of the sounds of battle. Neither know of that to say or how to say it. As is the unpleasant phenomenon of awkward silences...

Ding!

In a lapse of judgment, Samuel drops his pocket watch, narrowly avoiding catastrophe when it just misses impacting its crown. He frantically bends down to retrieve his prized possession from the ground, but Lyn grabs it first. Her finger unintentionally brushes against the timepiece's sensitive trigger, causing it to spring open. Her eyes widen as she finds the small drawing of a small girl underneath its cover.

She mutters, "White hair...and red eyes..."

Her gaze meets with Samuel's again, this time reflecting an added coat of empathy. She says, "This drawing...is of the little girl you were talking about? Laniakea, right?"

Hearing his niece's name subconsciously erases any of the anxiety in his gut. He nods softly and replies, "Yeah...that's her. She takes almost everything from her mom. What a doll she is, really. It hurts my heart that she's not safe right now."

Samuel and Lyn observe the gang of shaman's lingering nearby. They appear ominous amid their black cloaks and emotionless expression, though thankfully they seem reluctant to attack with their superior numbers...

Samuel says, "I...I'd like to talk more about her, if you'd have me."

Lyn smiles warmly, "Yeah, I'd like that..."

The shamans nod at one another, and like the cog in a machine, step onto the board planks. The pair responds by readying a defensive stance, though they keep one eye with one another. They'd spent four weeks waiting for this moment, and they didn't want to relinquish it so quickly.

Samuel says, "Lyn, I...I'm sorry. I should've been more transparent to your wishes. If only I had communicated with you more."

Lyn replies, "No, I am at fault. I am the one that failed to teach you the ways of my culture. I, too, am ignorant of your people's outlook in life. I failed you first as a friend, and then as a lover."

The vanguard of the shamans stops, and the leader recites the first sentence of his incantation. An icky, dreadful black orb of magic appears over his head, though it still has some ways to reach readiness...

Placing himself between the shaman and Lyn, Samuel plants his feet onto the ship's upper deck. He pictures himself matching the sturdiness of an Illian mountain and focuses some magic around him to bolster his resistance.

Lyn says, "You don't have to do this, Samuel. One flux spell won't kill me."

Samuel replies, "I know it won't, but I don't want to take any chances. Your health means a lot to me, Lyn..."

The shaman finishes his incantation, and then the orb of black surrounds his target. Samuel winces lightly as individual strands of black magic tore away at his skin, though it doesn't feel worse than a mild sunburn. Samuel responds by matching his spell with own composed of thunder...

" _Me tonantem audiam clamorem!_ "

Thunder erupts from his fingertips only to fizzle out when they impact the shaman's right arm. The shaman appears only mildly inconvenienced by the attack, and shrugs it off like it were nothing.

Lyn says, "Your magic isn't strong enough and his resistance is too high. It appears I have a place here, after all."

Lyn dashes forward onto the boardwalk and delivers a clean cut across their aggressor's body. He stumbles back as blood spurts onto the underlying wood, ultimately falling into the blue ocean below. The other shamans flinch at this blatant display of strength, and Lyn glares at them menacingly.

Samuel says, "We make quite the pair, here. I can tank all the hits and support you with magic while you provide most of the firepower. Does that feel fair to you?"

Lyn replies, "Yeah, but only if you let me be your fearless warrior. I won't have anything else..."

Lyn bends down and prepares her blade for another strike. Samuel spies the gaze of whom he can only assume to be the enemy army's leader, a shaman wearing a brown robe and sporting a reddish beard. At this rate, they'll get to him in good time, though Samuel scarcely cares about that. Something holds greater importance in his mind.

Not wishing to hold his peace any further, he says, "Lyn, I love you. I mean that with every ounce in my body."

Lyn smiles and glances back at her tactician. Her eyes reflect the same sense of familiarity Samuel's grown accustomed to, reminding him of the same gaze she wore when they first met in Sacae.

She replies, "Me, too. Let's never ignore each other again. I don't think I can go through that twice."

"Yeah...me neither..."

* * *

 **That night...**

The ship is calm. It's been several hours since the confrontation with the Black Fang, and there's scarcely any reminder of the battle from before, save for some darkened blood stains near railings of the ship. The army and crew alike do their best to sleep through the night, but some stay awake. This includes Eliwood, who looks out at the open sea with worry in his eyes...

 _Please be safe, father._ He thought. _I'm almost there with you..._

He closes his eyes and whispers a brief prayer, allowing the surrounding silence to envelope his soul. He feels at ease being here, even if his mind's preoccupied with the safety of his father. He's only glad to have triumphed in the earlier battle despite the enemy's advantage of surprise. That, and the safety of the maiden they call Ninian.

Ninian...she's the blue-haired girl he'd rescued several months prior in Lycia. Now, she is evidently a target of the same organization who pursued her before, the Black Fang. As much as they would've liked to not have her accompany them into the Isle, doing so would put her and the pirates in danger. It's best to have her come along with them for the army's protection...

"Lord...Eliwood?"

Eliwood looks to his right and notices Ninian by the railing right alongside him. The sight nearly gives him a fright, but he maintains the same cool and composed stature he always has. The young lord observes Ninian briefly for any injuries on her body and then falls into conversation.

He replies, "Oh, Ninian! I didn't expect to see you awake at this hour. Are you feeling all right?"

Ninian meekly nods her head, her eyes never meeting with his. She says, "Yes...I am. I...sorry. I don't...remember much. Please...forgive me."

Eliwood shakes his head, trying to seem as accepting of the girl as possible. He replies, "It's no problem at all! Don't strain yourself. You're among friends here. We'll wait for you to get your memories back."

Ninian still suffers through the amnesia she sustained earlier. The prevailing theory is that she took some head injury prior to taking to sea, though she shows no evidence of the sort. Even so, there's no other conclusion that made any reasonable sense, so everyone ended their speculation here.

Ninian bows her head down in gratitude. She says, "I...am grateful. I feel so...fortunate to have met a gentleman like you."

 _Met?_

Feeling a bit disappointed, Eliwood inquires, "Ninian, do you not remember me?"

Ninian shakes her head, "No, I believe this is my first...time speaking to you. Am...I wrong?"

Eliwood mentally sighs, but doesn't press any further as to not incite any worry from his listener. Although this is the first time they'd formally spoken to one another, the lordling still feels protective over this maiden with blue hair. He's not sure if it's her polite demeanor or her subliminal resemblance to his mother, but he cannot help but feel attracted to her.

He says, "No, you're not wrong. By the way, it's nice to meet you, Ninian. My name is Lord Eliwood of House Pharae, a beautiful canton in the southeast of Lycia."

Ninian faintly smiles, sending a slight shiver down Eliwood's spine. She replies, "It's...nice to meet you, too. I...don't know much about my past. But...I think I came from somewhere...cold."

Eliwood says, "Cold? So I presume there was snow? Tell me, do you fancy yourself a builder of snowmen?"

Ninian replies, "I...I don't know. I...think that sounds fun though. Is it fun...Lord Eliwood?"

Eliwood smiles warmly, his eyes resembling a pair of blue flames. He stands still as his blue/red cloak moves lightly with the wind, exemplifying a noble grace fitting for his class.

He says, "Yes, building snowmen is very fun. However, it's only that way because of the friends I shared the experience with. I built my first snowman with my best friend, Hector. It was amazing...I wish I was a little kid again."

Ninian says, "Oh...Lord Hector. He's that sizeable man with blue hair...right?"

Eliwood nods his head, "Yeah, I swear he's not as scary as he looks. He's a friend of mine, and you can consider him a friend of yours."

"Oh..."

Ninian goes silent as she looks away towards the water. The white light of the moon makes her blue hair sparkle like a waterfall. Eliwood stands there curious by Ninian's sudden episode of repose...

"Ninian?"

"..."

Clearing her throat, Ninian says, "Are...we friends, Lord Eliwood?"

!

Those words take Eliwood aback, and he hesitates. He searches through the innermost corners of his mind for a sufficient answer, but in the end he goes with his gut. Or rather, his heart.

He says, "Well, I wouldn't say we're friends...yet. We only did just formally meet one another. However, I think I'd like to change that. Do you want to be friends, Ninian?"

Their gazes meet with each other again, a pair of blue interlocking with red. The sincerity in their eyes touches each of their hearts, and it is at this moment that something blossoms. The beginning of a fulfilling and fruitful relationship.

Ninian replies, "Yes...I think I would like that very much..."

* * *

 **Nearby...**

"Ah...finally."

Samuel smiles as he drinks his long overdue cup of green tea. The liquid falls down his throat, encapsulating his body with an aura of relaxation. The anger in his veins he'd spent hours suppressing disappears like a Sacaen horseman riding into the sunset. Utterly elated with himself, he looks out towards the full moon that twinkles in the sky, and allows its white light to cake his blood-stained robe...

Today was an interminable day for him. After he and Lyn dealt with the gang of shamans, the pair advanced forwards to eliminate the leader of the ambush, a shaman named Zoldam. Although his Luna tome proved difficult to overcome, in the end his arrogance led to his demise. He and Lyn stuck to their tried-and-true plan, ultimately leading to a strategic victory for the allied army...

 _!_

"Ugh..."

Samuel gasps as a slight tinge of discomfort surrounds his chest. Thankfully, it's not because of influence from the invisible hand, but rather of a lingering pain from Zoldam's Luna spell. Despite Samuel's fantastic resistance, a sudden burst of energy within the old magician triggered potent destruction his opponent did not expect. He blasted him with a torrent of magic that nearly knocked Samuel off of the ship, but fortunately a pile of water barrels broke his momentum before he could. It'll take some days before this wound completely heals, even with the talents of Priscilla and Serra at his disposal.

"Mmmph..."

The tinge develops into a blunt knife pressing into his chest. Samuel's starting to feel a bit annoyed now, though he does his best to keep his composure. He stomachs it like an unpleasant case of typhus and closes his eyes to try to clear his mind…

"Hey..."

Samuel thinks he hears a voice to his left, but only finds Eliwood and Ninian talking faraway on the railing. His person firmly at the end of the vessel's stern, he instead shifts his gaze right, and meets with the eyes of the person he'd agreed to speak with earlier, Lyn. She still wears the outfit she always does, though with a similar set of crimson stains like Samuel.

Samuel says, "O-Oh, hi! You scared me, there..."

Lyn chuckles, "Hehe. How so? Did I not tell you I'd be up here at this hour? The time we explicitly chose because everyone would be asleep?"

Samuel briefly glances around, and sure enough their earlier assessment is correct. About a half dozen sailors and soldiers snooze away at the upper deck, with the rest firmly residing below. Since it's midnight, that means everyone should be deep in their slumber. All the better for them to sneak away and share an intimate moment together.

Samuel says, "Eh...right. Well, I didn't expect Eliwood and Ninian to be awake. I guess that means I can't kiss you."

"Wha...?!"

Lyn blushes, and the sight compels Samuel to titter. He covers his mouth in a pitiful attempt to hide it, but Lyn's sharp Sacaen eyes spots the ruse, anyway. Pouting, she punches him in the arm.

She says, "You...are a weird boy. So...very weird."

Samuel replies, "Well, you will have to get used to it if we're going to get married. Just as I will towards your spontaneity, m'lady."

"Samuel..."

Samuel closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He allows the chilly ocean air to tickle his throat. His mind sufficiently committed by countless nights of solitary thought, he's ready to tell Lyn what's on his mind.

He says, "Lyn, I'll be honest with you. My parents in my old world, marriage didn't suit them very well. As such, I view this institution with a skeptical eye. However, it's wrong for me to use this skepticism to spite a goal of yours. It...is a goal of yours, right?"

Lyn replies, "I...yeah. In Sacae, we consider marriage a must by the time one reaches their mid-twenties. However, this isn't the reason behind my desire. My mother and father...their marriage was a happy one. I...want to replicate that for myself and you. Is that fair? Or am I being too much of a dreamer?"

Samuel remembers Lyn telling him about her parents' marriage. Unlike his folks, theirs were much more trusting and fruitful. To be honest with himself, this made him a little jealous, though not so much as to solicit an inappropriate reaction. They lived very different childhoods and have unique experiences, both of which affect what they are today.

Samuel says, "I...don't know what to say. Do you want my unfiltered opinion?"

Lyn nods her head. She doesn't care about the potentially offensive nature of his following words. All she cares about is about what he feels. What he really feels. That's the whole point of open communication in a relationship, and she's prepared to face it head on.

Samuel says, "I...am cynic when it comes to these sorts of things. What I fear is that we'd get married only to fall out of love when we get older. So far, I have no reason to believe we'd grow with each other as opposed to growing apart. I...forgive me. I've known you for over a year now, yet I feel I don't know the true you."

Samuel lowers his head, and Lyn does the same. Both come to the realization that although they'd known each other for a while, there is still much they don't know about each other. Their distinct cultures, lifestyles, and outlook on life. These things are important in choosing a spouse, and neither she nor him have scratched the surface. Like a stake only implanted an inch into earth, it doesn't take much to jeopardize the integrity of the structure.

Lyn says, "I must confess that I feel the same way. There's much I don't know about you, my dear tactician."

Samuel says, "I...A part of me wants to rush into this. A part of me wants to believe that after all this we'd get married and have a carefree life somewhere. Maybe even...have kids, if my homunculi body allows it. Yet, I know I have to be realistic. To be married is to sacrifice part of your freedom so you may tie yourself with someone else. I know freedom means something to you too, Lyn. It means everything to me."

Lyn replies, "But it doesn't have to be that way. Who says we can't live our lives as we see fit? What force dictates we must follow what tradition has set out for us? Why can't we live our lives as free as possible, but together?"

Samuel shakes his head, "Yet here we are. You say that, but you are bound to the laws of your heritage. It's that way because of the blood you're proud to have coursing through your veins. There's nothing wrong with that, but I have no such thing. The culture and society I come from doesn't affect me here as yours do."

Lyn replies, "I don't believe that. Your past experiences hold a lot of sway of who you are now. You won't admit it, but I'm sure your family has instilled in you values kept deep in your heart..."

Lyn looks away and sighs. She adds, "I think that's part of the reason I admire you so. You hold on to a culture that can be considered extinct. In a way, it's the same peril I go through. Although the Lorcan culture shares many similarities with the other Sacaen tribes, there are also nuances that differ. I can't share these differences with anyone else, just like you."

"Lyn..."

Stricken with emotion, Samuel caresses Lyn's hands and closes them with his own. They gaze into each other's eyes, never forgetting about the love they share.

Samuel says, "I...I will make it my goal to familiarize myself more with you and your culture. I want to understand you, and to discover a part of you I've never seen before. Only then will I be confident in my decision. I want to accept you for your woes and faults, not just for the beautiful angel I see before me."

Lyn replies, "I...will do the same thing. I will commit myself to discover more things about your past, and to untangle the enigma of what makes you...you. I'll be by your side always until then. On the battlefield, and at times like these..."

"..."

The pair subliminally inch towards each other, their lips gradually nearing one another's. They lean into each other to begin what would've been a long, passionate kiss, but the physical laws of nature bring a stop to it. Lyn's taps the front side of Samuel's white mask, and after a moment of repose, both give out a distasteful sigh.

Lyn mutters, "Damnit, it was about to get good..."

Samuel replies, "Tell me about it..."

"..."

Samuel says, "Well, that kind of puts a drag on things, doesn't it?"

Lyn and Samuel break into a light chuckle. Drowsiness begins to overtake their senses, compelling Lyn to yawn. This makes Samuel yawn, too, and both realize the need to rest before the inevitable battle tomorrow.

Samuel says, "I...I think I'm going to go to bed. Is there anything you want to tell me before I hit the hammock?"

Lyn nods, her mind thinking about something very important pertaining towards a scroll she picked up in Castle Caelin. She says, "Yeah, it's about the whole marriage ordeal..."

"I need to tell you a few things..."


	72. Mist

**Chapter 66: Mist**

 **By SodiumChloride12, derived from Fire Emblem, owned by Nintendo.**

 **A/N: Recently, I took a temp job that will keep me employed for about three weeks. In that time, I'll work anywhere between 60-84 hours a week in an endeavor that's incredibly demanding for me both mentally and physically. To be honest, I'm not sure if I can keep on writing during this time. I can't leave this job either since I need the money for college. Although I do have a bit of time to write, the content I wrote down is...dark. Maybe too dark. I'll for sure post next week, and I'll let you all know of my status by then. If I do establish a hiatus, I will be back by July 3rd.**

 **N: Here be dragons.**

* * *

 _The following is an excerpt of Sacaen law, retrieved from the Library of Caelin. Like many other customs birthed from the plains, it's derived from a story said to be brought upon by the plainsmother herself, Hanon._

 _About a month after Hanon returned from battling the dragons, she described to her tribe the advice of a friend of hers, a holy woman hailing from a land in the northwest. She asked her of ways to unite tribes wrought with a history of endless conflict, and after taking into account the Avenger's Law, this was what she said to her:_

 _"Your people are ones that never forget, yet sometimes enemies must cast aside their differences for the betterment of mankind. The only thing that can overcome the grudge of spilt blood is love, and the Sacaens must learn to use this sacred emotion to settle feuds. I propose intermarriage between rival clans to secure the reality of peace. No man in good conscience would ever dare to attack their sisters, and perhaps a new understanding can be had from the addition of new brothers..."_

 _Hanon took this knowledge and formulated a new law with the help of elders from all across the land. After a weekend of bickering, the following was agreed to:_

 _1) This law will henceforth be named the Law of Absolution, and will supersede the Avenger's Law._

 _2) Two rival clans can come to peace with no societal demerit upon a marriage between the two clans. It matters not the status of the two being wed, though higher social status will result in a sturdier peace._

 _3) Upon the marriage, all unpaid blood feuds, grudges, and slights will be considered null._

 _4) An alliance may be established between the two clans, though not required. A non-aggression pact is a must._

 _5) Prior to the marriage, the groom and bride must confess their sins before a being of higher power. Whether this be the spirits or some other being matters not. The two feuding clans must also do this in the company of one another, though only the most senior of leaders must attend. The couple and leaders must profess separately, whether it be in their house, plains, or place of worship._

 _6) The groom must be a war chief._

 _7) The groom and bride must genuinely be in love._

 _The elders took this law and brought it back to their people. They accepted it as it was, and all became well..._

* * *

 **In a compound near the Dragon's Gate...**

"Impudence!"

Nergal slams his hand against the bars of Elbert's cell, his head reddened with rage. The source of his fury looks back defiantly from his relatively empty cell, his hands comfortably folded across his body. The marquess' red mustache mildly disguises a faint smile across his lips, though neither Nergal, Darin, nor Ephidel notice. Regardless, sweat glosses his face, and his heart beats quickly. Despite his best efforts, his captors have discovered the children's disappearance.

Mustering his inner confidence, he shouts back, "I will not allow you to proceed with your plans unabated! Face it, Nergal, you've been outplayed!"

Upon hearing those words, Nergal snaps his fingers towards his servant, Ephidel. Springing into action, the golden-eyed spawn swings open the jail cell door, and grabs Elbert by the collar. The royal struggles as he is thrown beneath Nergal's feet, his elegant clothes tearing as they scrape against the barren, rocky floor.

Elbert cries, "Gyuah...ack!"

He winces as Ephidel forces him into a genuflecting position. His old knees squeal in pain as they're forced to bend. Pressing his chin up towards Nergal, he meets his gaze just in time for Nergal to ball up his fist...

 _!_

He punches him square in the nose. His body recoils back like it were hit with a battering ram. His head narrowly misses the floor, though his shoulder bears the brunt of blow. The force behind the crimson dripping from his lip cackles in self celebration.

He says, "Hehehehe. Perhaps this will teach you to respect authority. Judging from your past as a marquess, I presume you should be familiar with this type of treatment. Not every one of your loyal subjects could pay their taxes, could they?"

Elbert writhes in pain. Across Lycia, Lords were known to solicit gangs to "collect" unpaid taxes when the need presented itself. Oftentimes, they would rough the poor peasants up when they couldn't pay. He wants to tell his aggressor that the greed of his peers did not apply to him, but alas. His human body can only take so much.

Lord Darin chuckles as he observes the weakness of Marquess Pharae. He puts his hands together and applauds Nergal. The sight reminds the Marquess of his cruel hand in fate.

He says, "Excellent showing, Lord Nergal. First you conquer this lowly ruler, and then the dragons. I expect much from you in the future. I am impressed."

Nergal replies, "It's the least I can do for this scoundrel. First, he ruins my plans for a large war in Lycia. Then, he allows the dragon children to escape. What a burden he is. I'd expected much quintessence from this. Oh well, I'm afraid the energies of the people of Carazan will have to do for now."

Elbert recovers some of his bearings and barely lifts himself off the ground with his elbows. Despite his bloodied lip, he utters some protests. His voice shakes like a boulder at the cusp of tipping over a cliff. "M...Madness. This man's plans will lead to the destruction of mankind. How do you not see this? Lord Darin, how do you intend to rule over a kingdom of ashes?"

 _!_

Ephidel kicks him, the force knocking his body into a nearby wall. His bones surrounding his chest crack, and succumbing to his injuries, he lies still.

Nergal nods approvingly. He says, "Excellent, my creation. Lord Elbert is a fool to think I don't have the strength to control dragons. Him and Marquess Santaruz."

Darin asks, "Why don't we kill Lord Elbert now? Surely we lack a purpose for him. I doubt you've been keeping him to secure his cooperation."

Nergal shakes his head. He replies, "I _do_ have a purpose for him. Unfortunately, I must keep that to myself. In the meantime, Ephidel! Limstella!"

Ephidel takes several steps towards Nergal, and both wait idly for a few seconds. Elbert hears the pitter patter of light steps walking through the hallway near his cell. Meekly raising his head up, he meets the gaze of another being wielding golden eyes. This time, they have the body of a beautiful woman, though none of the warmth of a human. It...is most undoubtedly a morph of Nergal's creation.

Their name is Limstella. A being of impressive stature, they represent the precipice of Nergal's work with homunculi. Every bit and piece of theirs body resulted from tedious and long-thought out work by the sorcerer's hand. Their pale face shows no signs of impurities, their petite yet sturdy frame stands strong, and their wavy hair gleams black like midnight. The Fimbulvetr tome inside its black/yellow dress suggests an impressive capacity in the magical arts. They truly wield an amazing amount of power, and Nergal regarded them as his favorite.

Nergal looks at them and Ephidel with a glimmer of pride in his eyes. He lowers his voice and relays to them their next batch of orders.

He says, "My morphs, my beautiful works of art. I have new work for you two. Limstella, I want you to go to Bern and tell Sonia to arrange a meeting with the king. Tell her it's urgent."

Limstella nods. They speak with a voice that's unabashedly feminine, yet robotic. It feels uneasy when the words reach Elbert's ear, like some unholy marriage between magic and the damned.

"Understood. It will be done."

Limstella disappears about as quickly as they came. Elbert doesn't have much time to relish on his senses, though. He closes his eyes and continues to eavesdrop for useful information. When he was younger, he used to be called "the rat from the southeast", so called for his knack to pick up pieces of information not meant for his ears. He probably would've made a decent spy in another life. Perhaps he would've done a better job doing that than attempting to organize a rebellion.

Nergal continues, "Ephidel, I want you to take Lord Darin and set out mustering the island's defenses. It would appear a mouse has arrived on our shores. Not only that, but he brought along that blasted rabbit, too. I want you to exterminate them all. However, Ephidel, I must require that you deal with the rabbit yourself. Despite his inferiority, I will not allow him to leave our clutches again. Do you understand?"

 _Rabbit_? Elbert wonders. _Who could he be talking about?_

In all his life, the only people he heard recalled as rabbits were the younger sort that harbored rather passive personalities, more useful for being manipulated by others rather than vice versa. Yet, they also had a reputation of having a discrete, quick wit, priceless when dealing with the turbulent environment of Lycian politics. They'd allow themselves to be "used" by their superiors while they secretly plotted to take power as they got older, ultimately resulting in an endgame power-play that left much of the ruling elite deceased. By that point, these rabbits would no longer be considered meek beasts. Instead, they became the lions of their court. Better to kill rabbits when they're weak than to wait for them to become predatory lions.

Ephidel nods with understanding. Nergal adds, "Do not fail me. I'd go myself, but other matters take priority. You always bested him in combat when he was Azazel. I don't expect anything different now in his weakened state."

Ephidel vacates the room, leaving Nergal alone with Elbert. The marquess does his best to get himself off the ground, but the pain in his joints keep him down. His previous bouts with torture have weakened his body significantly. The sorcerer notices this, and he snickers like a psychopathic child who finds joy in torturing small animals.

Nergal says, "You keep on living despite the constant abuse to your body. How impressive, Lord Elbert. I wonder if I'll be able to say the same about your son."

 _!_

Those words spur action within Elbert, and his eyes shoot open. He locks them with Nergal's, who relishes in his prisoner's burgeoning despair. His son means everything to him. He might be a failed revolutionary and a traitor, but his family comes before all else.

Elbert says, "What?! Leave my son out of this! He has nothing to do with us! Do what you will with me, but leave him alone!"

Nergal chuckles, "Hehehe. That's not my decision to make. The mouse I speak of is your son, Eliwood. He will surely make his way towards us. Alas, our conflict is inevitable. Not that it matters. I'm never the one to let good quintessence go to waste."

Fear encapsulates Elbert's heart. It pushes against it like a surge of water pressing against a fragile dam. Nergal paces around him, telling him more of his favorable situation.

He says, "Can you believe my luck? Not only is the main opposition to my power waltzing straight into my clutches, but he also brings along the girl who you helped escape. I can hardly contain myself..."

Nergal pauses. Evidently, he can't contain himself.

"Mwuahaha. MWUAHAHAH!"

Amid Nergal's maniacal laughter, Elbert closes his eyes again. This time, as prayer towards the son he cherishes so much. The son he'd do anything to protect.

 _Please...Eliwood. Take the girl...and flee. Run..._

* * *

"Run..."

Samuel raises his brow, confused about where the source of the voice came from. He looks around at the thick, white foggy air. His eyes scan over the surrounding dense forests, his hair wicked from residual moisture, and thinks he glimpses an idle albino squirrel lounging on a tree. However, further inspection disproves this theory, and figuring the earlier statement was a figment of his imagination, he focuses back on the crowd of people huddled near the shore of the isle.

His eyes scanning the cramped beach, unsettled. Surprisingly, landing onto this hunk of rock on the sea went well. They disembarked by using small boats provided to them by the pirates, who gladly offered them up to the allied army. Captain Fargus promised to linger a few hundred yards offshore for about two weeks pending their arrival, though the recent introduction of fog meant no one could spot the vessel on the open water. Samuel squints his eyes, trying to find the ship, but only sights a faint silhouette.

 _At least I know they're there,_ Samuel thought.

Secretly, Samuel's glad to have avoided a medieval D-Day. No enemies manned the coastline, but an aura of unease hung over the army like the surrounding white fog. He hears the anxious whispers of the army's troops fill the air. They speak about fears of the dark, isolation, and friendly fire. Some souls try to diffuse the situation by cheerily cracking jokes, and though it's usually a sure-fire tactic, it's failing. Morale is fleeting like the handful of dying introductory campfires dotting their position, and upon realizing this, Samuel bites his lip.

"Damn." He mutters. "This ain't good."

Fighting in a tenuous environment like this is never good, especially when doing so with an anxious army. Although Samuel can't do much to ease the latter, the former's a different story. Fidgeting his thumbs, Samuel seeks the only other man in the army who he knows has experience in fighting in a dense, heavily obscured area...

Matthew.

He finds him by a river delta, which empties gallons of fresh water into the salty sea. Knife in hand, the thief's busy sharpening a twig in the shape of a dog. Samuel doesn't know why he's partaking in an action so mundane as it is useless, but he doesn't care. It's not his position to judge. His boot sinking lightly into the wetted, sandy ground, he raises his hand towards him like a cowboy greeting the bartender at a bar.

He says, "Matthew. I need to talk to you."

Matthew ceases his action and looks up towards his tactician. Samuel's eyes cut through the thick fog, a pair of colored stars in white static. The sight is unsettling to behold, and for a second, the thief forgets about the familiar face behind that mask of his. This thought shatters the moment he speaks again. Out of instinct, he drops his understandable Midwestern accent and accidentally switches back to his slight Southern one.

"Oi! Snap out of it! You look like you're seeing ghosts!"

Matthew blinks once and comes back to reality when he registers the man's odd manner of pronouncing the suffix of _seeing_. He mentally chuckles, though not audibly as to not offend his tactician's pride. He says, "Oh, sorry about that. You looked unsettling earlier. I almost took you for one of those walkers we ran into in Swampmarsh."

"Ugh...you're kidding."

Samuel thinks back towards those zombie-like creatures he battled last year. He tries to avoid doing that nowadays, but Matthew's mention of it rattled up some old cobwebs. He recalls those creatures' ghastly, eerie green eyes. However, thankfully, or maybe thanklessly, a familiar smell graces his nostrils. The aroma assaults his sense of smell with a stench he hadn't been close to in an eternity.

He says, "Wait...Matthew! Why do I smell...?"

The thief's eyes widen with shock, and he stows away a stray bottle beneath his feet. Samuel notices it anyway, and picks it up, noticing the amber color of whiskey. His brow droops with disappointment.

He says, "By Elimine's grace...dammit man! The last thing we need is for you to be drunk here! What's wrong with you?!"

Matthew shrugs his shoulders and tries to smile the issue away. However, the expression subsides, and he comes clean. "Eh...Sammy...I'm just a little tipsy. But, I needed some respite since I got a terrifying nightmare last night. Something about this isle doesn't sit right with me."

Samuel tilts his head. He looks around to make sure no one else is listening and allows Matthew to speak his peace.

He asks, "What do you mean? I'm sure everyone feels off about this place. It's not something exclusive to you."

Matthew shakes his head and takes a swig from an unseen flask from his pocket. Samuel extends his hands to grab it, but Matthew calms his advances. He says, "It's just water. I got the message the first time."

Matthew clears his throat. "Tell me, Samuel. Do you know how it feels to watch your loved ones perish? To watch them wallow in the thick forests of your dreams, and cry out for help?"

Samuel gasps, but pushes away the thoughts of his experiences in the previous timeline. The slight tug towards his heart reminds him to keep quiet, and he answers in the best way he can. "I...am sympathetic. I can't...imagine how that feels like."

Closing his fist, Matthew continues, "I...I saw Leila. The love of my life. I saw her...bleeding out by a staircase, her killer staring down with a cold pair of eyes. The thought of it horrifies me..."

 _!_

Samuel hesitates for a moment. He remembers about a similar dream that felt far too real for him to discard with the rest of the traumatic memories of his past. He recalls the porcelain, doll-like dead body of Florina strewn out against the darkened forest floor. The ensuing cocktail of emotions makes him flinch, and he briefly wonders if he, too, should partake from the few droplets of liquid courage inhabiting the bottle in his grasp.

Samuel replies, "I wouldn't worry yourself. I don't know her that well, but when I met her in Badon, she seemed to be capable enough. Besides, I'm sure Uther would get her out if she was in any real danger."

Matthew lets that thought simmer for a bit. He takes a breath of fresh air and sighs. He wants to believe it. Yet, as capable of a leader Uther is, he can't.

Gritting his teeth as he opens his mouth, he says, "Yeah, I suppose he would..."

* * *

Leila ducks her head behind the corner of an idle hallway. Her ears perk with stimulation like a hare, having been intrigued by the bombshell she just heard. She'd just bore witness to everything shared in that earlier exchange between Nergal, Darin, Elbert, and the morphs. Shaking with anxiety, her mind races to comprehend the gravity of it all.

 _Insane...I can't believe it's come to this. I...I must inform Lord Uther of this. No...Lord Hector. He's closer to my position._

 _!_

Her heart races when she hears the robotic footsteps of an approaching entity. Her eyes dart around the hallway for any faint hint of cover, but she's exposed. She hardly has a moment to compose her thoughts when Ephidel comes into view. His head slowly swerves over to her like a turret focusing in on its target.

He asks, "Hm? Leila? What are you doing here?"

Running off her instincts, Leila goes with the first thing she can concoct in her mind. She replies, "I've gone to go check on the sentries."

What fool's excuse to be out and about. The _Gulak_ lies deep inside the deepest floors of the Dragon's Gate, and sentries aren't around or needed. However, by the time Leila realizes this, it's already too late. She's already sealed her own fate. Ephidel's face stays emotionless as he realizes Leila's true intentions. He says, "You heard everything we spoke about back there, did you? It's a shame, I expected much from you..."

Just like that, he discards her like a piece of refuse...

"Jaffar!"

 _!_

Suddenly, a red-haired man with an equally indifferent look appears behind Leila's shoulders. Evidently, he'd been watching over her this whole time. He says the six words every fangsman fears.

"The punishment for traitors is death."

Leila doesn't have the time or the reflexes to react. Jaffar raises his blade, eyeing for the nape on his prey's neck...

He'll kill her in one blow, that's all he needs...

* * *

Matthew looks down to his hands. His face grimaces, expecting something bad's about to happen.

He says, "Fate can be cruel, you know? It doesn't seem to align toward any side of good nor evil. It just...has its own agenda."

Samuel nods in an agreeable fashion. He replies, "I suppose that makes us subject to its whim. We're slaves to a force we have no control over."

Matthew chuckles, "Hehehe. If anyone knows a thing about slavery, it'd be you..."

The pair shift their gazes towards the river flowing some distance away. Its stream shuffles and churns with unfamiliar objects inside its grasp. An array of debris like stray tree branches, seaweed, and dead logs modify the current in minute ways...

Clearing his throat, Matthew says, "Fate's like this river. We can put stuff in it to alter its course, but nothing can be done to change the eventual destination. It's funny, though. One minute change downstream can fire off a series of changes we never expect..."

Samuel raises his brow. "How so?"

Matthew points towards a dead log ensnared between some weeds on the river bank. Water pushes it around, beckoning it to join its current, but it doesn't budge.

He replies, "That log. There's no telling where it came from. A storm could've pushed it into this river, or perhaps someone put in here themselves. For all we know, a stray gust of wind from some bygone edge of the planet could've done it. Regardless, we know not. Despite the obstacle this log poses towards the surrounding water, the liquid can't escape its fate of inevitably emptying into sea. You see, actions in our past shape what we see in the present. No matter how minor or major. Everything we do is important."

He brings his tongue behind his right cheek, and pushes. He adds, "Who knows? I could just be a rambling thief right now. However, if my job's taught me anything, it's that sometimes, even the smallest changes in the environment can be the difference between life and death. Like the debris in the river, this action will invariably change the water's course, even if the end result is still the same."

Samuel asks, "Why...are you telling me this, Matthew?"

He shrugs his shoulders, flashing the same smile his tactician's grown to familiarize himself with. He says, "I don't know. Just understand this. We might be able to change our destiny, or we might not, but there're many things the human condition can alter. If we try hard enough..."

"Maybe, just maybe, we can try to beat fate itself."

* * *

"AAAAAAAAAAGH!"

The screech of a little girl echoes through the hallway, bouncing off the walls. The sheer weight behind her terror throws Jaffar off, along with his blade. His arm lurches too far to the right, cutting Leila's shoulder instead of the vital artery in her neck...

"Ack!"

Leila grunts in pain, but sees an opening to escape. She digs into her pocket and reveals a gray ball composed of some primitive illusion magic. A smokescreen, useful for curtailing the advantage of a pursuer. She throws it onto the ground and makes a run for it...

Jaffar and Ephidel cough as Leila escapes their clutches. They try to pick out her small frame from within the veil of black, but fail when they only locate one another. By the time the smoke subsides, the traitor's long gone, and both come to their senses.

Ephidel says, "Ridiculous. I never expected her to do something like that."

Jaffar returns his blades to their sheathes, reflecting a hint of disappointment as he did so. In all his time of being an assassin, this was the first time _any_ of his targets had ever escaped him. _Ever._

He says, "My apologies, Lord Ephidel. That girl's scream threw me off. I will locate the traitor if you allow me."

Ephidel nods his head, and Jaffar sets off at once. He follows the small trail of blood Leila left behind, though given her head start, Ephidel doubts he'll catch up. She's as good as gone.

Ephidel wonders what his master will think of this. A traitor had escaped from the Fang's clutches, and it's all thanks to a girl down the hall. A girl with white hair who'd just awoken from a night terror that shook her to her core, so much so she had no choice but to scream her fears away...

 _This dragonborne better be worth it_. He thought. _Had she not been held in that cell nearby, we likely could've likely rid ourselves of that rat..._

* * *

"Matthew, do you feel that?"

Samuel feels a weird sensation travel up his throat and then drop back into his chest. Its a surreal sensation to behold, comparable to something between heartburn and a light contraction. Evidently, Matthew senses it, too, and he clutches the fabric right over his heart.

He says, "Yeah, I did. It's...not too bad though. There must be something in the air..."

"..."

"It's...gone..."

Matthew and Samuel breathe a collective sigh of relief. Both wonder about what just happened, though they conclude it must've been some coincidental lapse in their bodies. The isle can do that to people, they reason. Either that, or the place secretly harbors some haunted burial ground underneath the thick covering of gray forest.

Samuel says, "Man, we've got to get out of here ASAP. I will tell the others to prepare to move out. Also, you think you're going to be able to hold up? You've got the best pair of eyes in the army, and we need you to help us wade through this fog."

Samuel waves for him to follow along, and he obliges. They make their way back towards the rest of the army, a daring duo by appearance. The tactician nearly lets a fly in when he opens his mouth wide. His friend has regained his step, his mood having dramatically improved.

He says, "Where's the long face? Or is there some pent-up optimism I didn't notice before?"

Matthew's right end of his lip extends towards his ear. A sly smirk from an even slyer man.

He replies, "I don't know. I just feel so much better. I can't put a finger on it, though..."

* * *

 **Later...**

 _You've gone and done it, haven't you?_

Samuel blinks and looks around the dense forest he and the rest of the army is wading through. There's scarcely a sound in the air besides their boots crunching up dead leaves. Everyone's on high alert, and for a second, he wonders why no one notices this voice besides himself...

 _You've changed the timeline again. Why must you agents of chaos consistently act in a way that's detrimental to my authority?_

Ashera. Her voice sounds unamused and annoyed. Samuel doesn't understand why, as lately he's acted as natural as possible. What could the goddess of Fate and Order possibly want with him this time?

 **Sam:** _What do you mean? I've done nothing._

 **Ashera:** _Don't be ignorant. Several hours ago, I detected a disturbance from within the timeline. Since you are the only known agent of chaos, you surely must be the culprit. There's no other way. Unless, she has something to do with it..._

Samuel raises his brow. He has _absolutely_ no idea what Ashera's talking about.

 **Sam:** _Why don't you just use your goddess powers to locate the source of the anomaly? It's not fair for you to be complicating me in all of this. Leave me alone!_

 **Ashera:** _Nonsense! There are limitations to my ability, mortal. I can only speak to people who have died before. This is your third life, no?_

Samuel's right eye twitches when he thinks about his two deaths. He remembers the sensation of icy steel piercing through his flesh, its sharp edges like a shard of Ilian ice, but hardly recalls much of his first expiration. The event that took him to Elibe in the first place.

 **Sam:** _Speaking of lives, do you know why I'm here?! I've been here for a while, but I never questioned why—_

 **Ashera:** _Silence! I do not owe you any explanations. Regardless of your part in this incident, your army invariably stands to gain much from this. To balance the stream of fate, I must equal out the good with the bad. A life for a life..._

 **Sam:** _What?!_

Samuel doesn't like where the direction of this conversation is going one bit. He covers his ears with his hands, as if the muffling of external sounds could rid himself of this voice in his head. It's a vain attempt towards a crippling problem, and it only exacerbates the volume of his accursed tyrant.

 **Ashera:** _Listen to me, Samuel. Later today, you will face a difficult choice. The choice between life and death. Choose wisely, and you will subvert your army from a calamity. Choose wrongly, and your journey comes to a cataclysmic failure. Linger in your decision, and the forces of fate will choose for you. For better, or for worse._

Samuel's gut falls to the center of the earth. The sheer magnitude of gravity nearly makes him gag, but the invisible hand of fate prevents him from making a scene. His head scrambles to fight back against this authoritarian mongrel interfering in his affairs.

 **Sam:** _What?! That's not fair! You can't possibly expect me to decide between my friends and allies!_

 **Ashera:** _I have spoken. If you care for that Sacaen girl, keep her close. Life and Death. Your choice. Ultimately, isn't that what you agents of chaos want? Choice?_

 _..._

Ashera vanishes from his mind. Anxious sweat falls down the side of Samuel's face, and his hand shakes. He doesn't know how to process what that goddess just said to him. He presses his left hand against his head and groans when he feels a stress-induced headache come on.

 _Oh my God._ He thought. _What...what am I going to do?!_

* * *

"Lyn..."

Lyn turns her head when she hears a familiar voice. It came from the army's tactician, who'd emerged from some unseen area from the thick fog. Despite the mask on his face, she notices the fear in his stature, and her heart jumps when a piece of it transfers over to her.

She says, "Lieutenant Vacia? What are you doing here?"

Samuel looks around, his amber eye resembling a lighthouse peering through darkness. He asks, "Kent, is he here?"

"Yes, I am."

Kent comes into a view. Despite his close proximity with the princess, the thick fog coupled with Samuel's subpar vision means he'd missed him completely. Silent disdain radiates from the red knight's eyes.

Samuel grabs onto both of them to make sure they're there. He exhales, thankful to be close to them both.

He says, "You two are to stay by my side for the rest of the day. Forgive me, but the vision I've neglected to treat is beginning to lash out at me."

Samuel's vision problems originated from when he survived that explosion in the Emperor's ballroom in Carazan. At first, he didn't notice because the changes to his eyesight were minute, but the problem only worsened as time passed. Far away objects became blurrier than usual, though not so much as to drastically affect his aim. It's only an issue now that the fog made visibility horrible.

 _I suppose this is what my eyesight will look like if I survive to old age._ He thought. _That damn explosion must've knocked my retina out of place. Too bad healing magic can't fix that..._

Regardless, Lyn nods with approval. She's grateful for any moment with her beloved tactician, especially if they can look out for each other in case of threats. The same cannot be said for her retainer, though he's in no position to complain. He simply stays quiet.

Samuel says, "Excellent! Now, let's go gather up the others. There's no telling what's in store for us inside of this forest..."

 _!_

"EEEEEEEEEK! Who is this?!"

Samuel's teeth nearly shatter when he hears Serra's voice pierce through the fog. Evidently, she was wading through the fog with Erk when they found something...

Kent says, "What? Come you two, we must go!"

* * *

"By Elimine..."

Lyn covers her mouth when she observes the pale body leaning against a dark tree. The dried blood covering her upper body has hints of green from the dull foliage underneath her feet. Her eyes are closed, though Lyn doesn't know if it's a symptom of death or unconsciousness...

Nearby, Serra, Erk, Samuel, Kent, and Hector look on with gaping mouths. Serra and Erk are unsure of the identity of this woman, but Samuel and Hector don't share that problem. Mindful to maintain his identity, Samuel holds his tongue while Hector approaches the woman to check her pulse.

He says, "Leila...thank goodness. She's not dead, just comatose."

Lyn asks, "Leila? Isn't this the same woman we ran into in Caelin?"

Hector nods his head and lets Leila's hand fall lightly onto her lap. Despite the severity of what she'd just gone through, her sleeping face seems oddly peaceful. Like she'd just avoided some calamity.

Hector replies, "She's one of Ostia's best spies, and was posted here in the isle to feed us information about the Fang. It looks like she got found out. I don't understand why she would be out here, though. Especially this beat up. Ugh...Matthew isn't going to like this."

That last remark flies through everyone's head, but Samuel grimaces when he thinks about his friend. For a moment, he puts himself in his shoes by picturing finding Lyn in the same situation, but discards the idea once his hand begins shaking again. He takes his robotic hand, a limb unaffected by trauma-induced anxiety, and clasps it shut.

Erk squints through the thick fog to get a better look at Leila's injuries. He says, "There's a nasty cut on her shoulder. Thankfully, it looks like it missed arteries, though some veins must have been cut. I'm no doctor, but my guess is somebody tried to stab her."

 _Tried to stab her..._

Samuel brushes the underside of his short beard. He wonders under what circumstances someone like Leila would find the end of a blade, or rather, what must've happened to incite conflict. He takes a step closer and notices some mud sticking to the sides of her boots...

He says, "The wound isn't so bad to suggest she passed out from blood loss. I think she was running through here when exhaustion overtook her. The air around here's thick and muggy. Run for enough time, and your head can become hazy."

Hector asks, "But why was she running? It's almost like she tried to avoid something...or someone."

A stray gust of wind blows through the air, making everyone's blood feel as cool as ice. The branches of the surrounding evergreen trees creep towards them like arms made from shadows. Serra coughs as she intakes too much humid mist, the sound spooking everyone. They focus on their breathing as they listen to the ominous sounds of the moving forest.

As if tempting fate, Lyn asks aloud, "Was...she followed? Is the enemy..."

Suddenly, Erk's eyes shoot open as he sees something thick in the fog. He instinctively reaches for his fire tome. Whether out of instinct or genuine care, he flings himself in front of Serra.

He exclaims, "Everyone! Stand back!"

Fire erupts from his fingertips, creating a wall of plasma directly in front of the group. The heat evaporates much of the muggy fog and the ensuing radius of clarity reveals a man lurking alone behind an enormous evergreen tree. The mysterious man has red hair and a foreign-looking outfit. No one knows the identity of this man, no one but one person.

Samuel freezes with fear, and then with anger. The memory of the snow-capped hill on the worst day of his life takes center stage. Unbridled rage boils his head red-hot, and he balls up his hands tight. The metal in his artificial limb creaks with sheer stress.

 _Jaffar..._

 _!_

Wary to use his advantage of surprise while he still had it, Jaffar chucks a small dagger into the party. It zooms at what seems to be Mach One, flying by Serra's head and cutting off a small piece of her hair. It continues on its set course like a tomahawk missile, riding to where it's a mere foot from Samuel's face...

He can't move. He doesn't have time to blink, much less react. Time slows down as death rears its ugly head. For a split second, all of the memories and trauma of his past rush to him. It's at this moment that Samuel realizes the sincerity of Ashera's warning. Yet, despite that, he didn't prepare for it. He was so preoccupied with the fear of death for himself and his friends he didn't take any steps to prevent it.

Snap!

 _"_ Agh!"

A feminine cry of pain fills the air. Samuel can hardly believe his eyes. Someway, somehow, somebody had the reflexes to block the knife with their hand. However, this sense of amazement quickly evaporates once the cry of pain registers in his brain. The symptom of agony came from Lyn.

"Lyn!"

The crowd of soldiers scramble towards the injured princess, but Samuel and Kent get to her first. They nearly burst into a panic as blood copiously leaks from her hand, with some fragments of bone adding brutality to the situation. The sight makes the tactician feel faint, but his love for his companion outweighs it, forcing a burst of mellow emotions through his system to keep his composure.

Samuel says, "Oh my God! Lyn! You're bleeding out!"

Hector and Erk form a weak perimeter around Lyn and Leila, the former having been moved by the lord at the first sign of trouble. Serra cowers behind Erk like a damsel in distress, who seems disinterested in being her hero. Meanwhile, Kent and Samuel try their best to stop the bleeding, their eyes expressing the same sense of haste.

Kent says, "Milady, you must hold still! We have to pull out the knife so we can help you!"

Lyn opens her mouth to speak, but nothing comes out but unintelligible garble. To their horror, the blood immediately surrounding the blade had turned a distinct shade of blue. Evidence of an unknown poison drips from the dagger's hilt, likely an agent specializing in nerve damage. Lyn's upper body convulses uncontrollably, and her eyes roll to the back of her head...

Samuel exclaims, "Serra! Get over here! We need your staff!"

"..."

Silence. Samuel looks back and sees Serra paralyzed with fear. Her gaze interlocks with a figure past Erk's wall of magical fire, his cold eyes looking back at her. The figure lifts his other blade up and sheathes it. For a second, Serra swears to see the man mouth the words, "Until next time..."

Then he vanishes. Gone, like water in a midsummer's day...

* * *

 **Later...**

"Ugh..."

Covering his face with his hands, Samuel lets a pained gasp escape him. His body shivers underneath his blood-stained clothes, and his feet feel uneasy on earth. He watches anxiously as Serra wraps up Lyn's hand with rolls of cloth, who sits awake by a nearby tree.

Jitters in his voice, Samuel asks, "Is she going to be okay? She lost a lot of blood..."

Lyn says, "I'm _fine_ , Lieutenant. I'll feel sore for a few days, but Serra's magic is fairly potent."

Serra nods her head as she cuts off some spare fabric from Lyn's dressing. Pressing her hand against the adhesive cloth, she says, "I'm the BEST cleric around here! Nobody can hope to compare! Even Ostia's elite healers envy the talent I possess!"

Samuel mentally rolls his eyes. _Yeah right._ He thought. _She's the princess of vanity, that's what she is._

Despite the unappreciated display of sass, Samuel gets up and... _hugs_ the cleric for a job well done. He truly feels thankful to Serra's effort, as without her he'd be removing six feet of dirt from the ground. Shocked expressions wash through both of the women's faces, though Lyn's carries a tinge of jealousy. Regardless, all she can do is shift her gaze away from them and towards the small, impromptu party of teammates around her.

They'd retreated a scant distance from the sighting of the enemy. Currently, they reside near a large tree that looms over their heads as a natural guardian against the elements, though it can do nothing about the crippling amount of fog. The fog's gotten so bad that visibility is comparable to an Illian blizzard, and now the army has completely lost contact with one another.

Rubbing his stiff hands together, Samuel grits his teeth. He can't deny that he's scared. He can only see a few feet in front of him, and he's fearful of sending someone out to reestablish contact with the rest of the army. He suspects enemies lurk within the thick cover of fog, and should a scout stumble upon a large cohort of them, they'll be as good as dead. Their only hope is to stick to their small parties and try to conduct war the best they can, or at least until the fog goes away.

"Lieutenant, what are your orders?"

Samuel shifts his gaze towards Kent, who has bent his knee out towards him out of courtesy. He spies the slim body of Serra latching onto Erk; her face radiating with silent anxiety towards the uncertainty around them. Erk is either too hospitable or anxious to protest, and he pretends she's not there. Hector applies a cold press to Leila on the other side of the tree they harbor, the latter having regained some color to her face, though useless in terms of military utility.

Samuel sighs. He's about to make a decision that _might_ kick off the calamity Ashera warned him about. In all honesty, he doesn't know what to do. By the way he sees it, there are three courses of actions he can take. He can stay put, but discard any hope of others finding them should the others decide to do the same. He can move away from the coastline to try to reach a drier part of the island less susceptible to fog, but subject the group to a larger-than-preferable risk of attack. Or, he can move towards the coastline which will probably have a lower concentration of enemies, but where the visibility is akin to trying to look through several _thick_ sheets of parchment. This is a hard decision to make, the first of many he must make on the island.

His left hand shakes again, but before he can stop it, a foreign grasp beats him to the punch. It comes from Lyn, and she keeps her grip on him tight. For the first time of his life, he truly feels a possessive aura radiate from her to him. Her pair of green eyes lock with his as if to say, "you're mine." Perhaps it's an off-handed reminder for him to keep his grubby mitts off of other women, or maybe it's to reassure him in this moment of uncertainty. Regardless, Samuel feels all the more appreciative for it, and with his mind sufficiently cleared, he comes to the most logical conclusion he can muster.

He says, "Okay, Kent. Here's what we're going to do..."


	73. Fighting Blind

**Chapter 67: Fighting Blind**

 **By SodiumChloride12, derived from Fire Emblem, owned by Nintendo.**

 **A/N: Sorry, for the late posting. My only day off is Sunday, and my mind's programmed now to view Saturday as the new Friday. Work's the only thing I really think about.**

 **Anyway, no new chapters until July 3rd. So...a one week break. I might make that day a double-header. Haven't decided yet. It'll depend on how quickly I recover back to "writer-mode".**

 **On a side-note, I'm in need of some data from you guys in regards to the sequel. If y'all have a moment, I'd like it if you'd flatter my inquiry towards ships for the protagonist of my series after _90 days_. It's on my profile page, and you _probably_ can't see it on mobile.**

 **N: Thick in the fog of war, Samuel made a major decision that will dictate the fate of his army. How will he and his friends fare?**  


* * *

 _The following excerpt is from the Sacaen Book of Common Law..._

 _Sometimes, a man must turn to the ways of war to better the interests of the tribe. Although any man can pick up a weapon to kill another, the most prized honor among the soldiers of the plains is that of the war chief. Becoming a war chief is no easy task, and represents the most difficult of trials provided by the homeland of Hanon._

 _1) The to-be chief must touch an enemy without killing them._

 _2) They must take an enemy's weapon._

 _3) They must lead a successful war party._

 _4) They must steal an enemy's horse and play/sing a traditional song from their tribe._

 _These steps need not be done in this order. All that matters is their completion._

* * *

Lost. That's the only word that even vaguely describes the situation Samuel finds himself in. Coughing as his lungs fill with misty air, he tries to make sense of it all.

He's...somewhere in the coast side forest of Valor. He's not sure if he's closer to the coast or more inland, since nobody in the group had a compass in their possession. The thickening fog makes him want to think that the sandy beach isn't too far away, though he can't know for sure. Regardless, concentrated fear builds up in the inner chambers of his heart, clogging his arteries like some bout with high cholesterol.

Samuel does his best to keep his grip on the shoulder of the man in front of him, Hector. Because of the horrible visibility, the entire troop travelled in a straight line with one hand on another so no one would become lost. They traverse through the thick, white static like lost souls returning to their bodies. Samuel silently swears to himself for deciding to split up the army earlier, his face contorting towards self-loathing...

 _All right everyone! I want the army to split up into groups of five! After that, we'll march forward into the island for maximum visibility, assuming the fog doesn't get any worse! Does that sound okay?_

The army wholeheartedly brought their will behind their tactician's decision-making. To him, this was the conservative option en lieu of many other more aggressive concepts the army could've taken. For example, they could march out in a tight group, but this requires an open field and puts them at risk from a bombardment from magical attacks. In another, Samuel could've sent out scouts while the army "lurked" behind to act at the slightest hint of trouble. Although nobody would've been able to anticipate the worsening fog, in hindsight keeping the army together probably represented the best option.

 _Damnit! This is all cause I want to keep everyone alive!_

Samuel tightens his grip on Hector's shoulder, who doesn't notice because of the chain-mail underneath his plated armor. He feels guilty for isolating his friends into vulnerable groups along the coastline, though he can't fret too much about it now. Their new aim is to find the rest of the army before they get ambushed, lest calamity befall onto his allies.

Their feet crunch the underlying dry earth with every step. The air has the smell of dead leaves and mist, though the latter takes on a much more prominent role. The person behind Samuel breathes too much of it too quickly, and he sneezes.

"Achoo!"

"Bless you."

Samuel instinctively utters the phrase he'd recounted so much in his old life. The sneezer raises his brow, befuddled by it.

Erk says, "Bless you? Why exactly are you blessing me for?"

Samuel smiles awkwardly, and chuckles to himself. He replies, "Sorry, force of habit..."

"..."

Silence fills the air again. They focus their sense of hearing towards the surrounding environment, privy to the slightest stimuli of sound. Some of them swear to hear the pitter patter of enemy soldiers lurking through the forest, though they banish such thoughts as fearful imagination. The minds of everyone in the group shutter at their invisible, real, or imaginary enemy's presentation of psychological warfare, powerless to do anything about it.

Breaking the veil of silence, Hector says, "Tactician, do you think we'll find the others?"

Samuel raises his head from its previously angled position at Hector's collar. He scratches his stubbled chin, and replies, "I sure hope so. There's no telling in this fog, though. On the bright side, I doubt the enemy can see very well either. If we find them, or them us, it'll entirely be by accident."

Although those words were a far cry from a reassuring set, Hector responds by shrugging his shoulders. He doesn't have energy to do much else since he's carrying Leila, a task he'd spent an hour doing...

However, just as he's about to reset to his previous state of alertness, his forward-most cowlick twitches up like a pair of hare's ears. His eyes wince as a figure appears mere feet from his person, and upon realizing he's about to impact it, he stops. He mutters, "What the..."

Unprepared for the sudden stoppage, Serra pokes her head from behind Erk's shoulder. She exclaims, "HEY! What's the HOLDUP?!"

Erk chastises her, "Woman! Do you not realize we're in a war zone?! Keep your voice down."

Hector shakes his head. He replies, "Both of you shut up. I think I found somebody. She's from the army...and..."

Samuel's eyes go wide with fright, and he looks over Hector's shoulder. He sees the mangled body of a youthful teenager girl. She has leather armor on with an ungodly amount of cuts and burn marks covering its worn material. Blood glosses her limbs, emptying into a small puddle underneath her form. Her green eyes point directly at the group, void of any sense of stimulation. Samuel's heart sinks when he realizes who it is.

 _Rebecca._

Unable to contain himself, Samuel prances forward. Hector puts his hand in front of him to grab the emotional tactician, but he only catches air. Unable to be reasoned with, Samuel picks up Rebecca's stiff body and rocks it lightly in a vain attempt to solicit a reaction.

Tears falling through his mask, Samuel sputters, "Rebecca...no...please. Don't be dead...please..."

It feels like his entire world is falling apart. To him, Rebecca was a joyful face and a dear friend. For her to leave the world like this instead to the pleasant fate of old age would be a great travesty. Not just to herself, but towards humanity. She's far too young for this. Far too young...

Tears dripping onto his friend's face, Samuel recalls a promise he made to this village girl's father. The thought jolt his veins with guilt as he recounts that memory from the original timeline…

* * *

 **Several months ago...**

Samuel puts his things together and prepares to leave the magistrate's house. His hands covered with blood, he's just glad to be through the scare of Rebecca's near death experience. He follows the train of others exiting the building when the magistrate grabs onto his shoulder just as he gets a foot out of the door...

Samuel raises his brow when he turns his face to meet with the man's mustached face. He's already heard about a dozen "thank-you's" from this man and figured he'd finished by now. Regardless, he has one last thing to say, and unwilling to be rude by to this father who had already gone through a lot of personal turmoil, he lends him an ear.

The magistrate says, "Young man, you seem like the most reputable person to disclose this to. It's about my daughter. I...I think she wants to join your little troop."

Intrigued, Samuel takes his foot away from the door and brings his whole body back into the lightly furnished home. His eyes spy the archer stretching inside her room, her form bursting with energy. He can't imagine why someone like her would willingly want to enter the business of war, and initially, he's in denial.

Samuel says, "Eh? I never took your daughter as a soldiering type. Sure, the pay's good, but it's not for everybody. I mean, look at me. Despite my role as a tactician, I still have plenty of scars because of my many battles. I think your daughter should just stay here with you and live out her days in peace."

The magistrate nods his head in agreement, but his posture suggests he's not in the mood to fight his daughter's will. He replies, "Erm, yes. But, I fancy that my daughter isn't the type to prefer...traditional employment. We're a poor family and she's very interested in traveling the continent so she could look for her brother who had disappeared years before. She has the adventurer's bug, I fear. Since she's of age, I'm of no standing to prevent her from leaving..."

"Sir, what are you suggesting?"

The magistrate clears his throat, "As unlikely as it may be, I would like it that, if she chooses to leave, that someone would look out for her. I've judged you to be of utmost moral character, Lieutenant Vacia. Can I...rely on you to ensure my daughter returns to me? I can't pay you anything, but if you ever need..."

Samuel shakes his head. As if running off instinct, he gives the well-meaning father some words of assurance. "Don't worry about it."

The magistrate lets a smile escape his lips. A heavy burden lifts from his shoulders, and beyond elated, he shakes Samuel's hand vigorously. At this point, he doesn't care to remark about the weird, inhuman-like nature of its metallic composition underneath its leather glove.

He says, "Thank you my good man! Don't let me down! If you ever find yourself in this village again, consider yourself among friends!"

* * *

"Step aside!"

Serra breaks from the rank and approaches the pair with her staff pointing towards Rebecca. It takes a moment for Samuel to notice her in between his bouts of despair, and he initially resists any attempt to let the cleric treat her. However, he allows Erk to pry him off Rebecca once he recovers his sense with reality, and upon being deposited by the side of a fibrous evergreen tree, he reflects in silent anguish.

Samuel feels absolutely _horrible._ Wiping salty liquid from the bottom of his mask, he thinks back on all the happy memories he shared with Rebecca. The many instances they shared lunch, the times he gave her advice, and the genuine wonderful feelings between them both. The thought of it nearly makes him break down again, but he holds firm. Losing control won't help him, especially not when they're in a war zone.

Samuel returns to the group back in a state of reason. He finds Hector and Lyn discussing steps to take, their faces stern.

Hector says, "This…girl. She's with us isn't she?"

Lyn nods, "Indeed. Ah…I fear for Kent's safety. We sent him out alone to establish contact with the others but…he still hasn't returned…"

"Oh, Samuel!"

Lyn looks at him with a sense of relief across her face, though the former less so. Ever mindful of his perception among the army's leadership, he addresses them with the attitude of a stone-cold buttoned up businessman.

He says, "Sorry...I lost control back there. It was entirely unprofessional."

Hector replies, "I never took you for the feeling type. I always thought you were calm and calculated. This is new for me."

Samuel smiles awkwardly and scratches the back of his head. He says, "Eh...yeah. I just...I care about the well-being of my fellow soldiers...probably a bit more then I should. Anyway, that's beside the point. Rebecca...is she..."

A voice pierces through the fog. Samuel notices the small holy light of a finalizing mending spell, along with the silhouette of Serra and Rebecca. He breathes a sigh of relief...

Serra says, "I...stabilized her condition. She took a rather nasty blow to the head, and there's no telling how she'll react to it when she wakes up. _If_ she wakes up. For now, we need to keep away from any further harm."

Hector asks, "Is that within the realm of possibility, Lieutenant?"

Samuel pushes away the pain of Rebecca's injuries from his mind, and shifts his attention back towards the safety of themselves along with the army. He's trying to approximate their position relative to the coast when a frightening thought streaks across his mind...

He says, "Wait, wasn't Rebecca with Lowen and a few others? Where'd they go?"

That realization compels the group into silence. Samuel's right. Rebecca, like everyone else, was in a group of five, her's including the likes of Lowen, Oswin, Lucius, and Sain. The group would've never left her out here on her own, much less in this state, without some struggle. Yet...

Where are they?

Samuel sends Erk a look, and that alone is all they need to know what to do. The pair retrieves a pair of Fire tomes from their pack.

Lyn asks, "Hey, what are you two doing?"

Erk replies, "We're going to use magical fire to clear a small radius of fog. It takes a bit of magic to produce the draft needed to do it, but I think we're justified here."

Hector says, "Do it then. Everyone, get ready. We might invite some less-than-friendly faces when the fog clears. Form a perimeter around Serra and the injured. They musn't have any harm befall to them."

The group fall in line, with Hector, Samuel, Erk, and Lyn creating a shell of protection around the more vulnerable members. Serra holds onto her staff intently, ready to form the last line of defense for the wounded should she have to. The irises of the battle-hardened soldiers vibrate lightly as the mages utter their incantations, no one blinking when streaks of fire dance around them. The sudden introduction of heat creates a surge of air displacement from the sharp difference in cold/hot air, forming a sanctuary of visibility inside a cloak of white static. Finally able to see again, the group looks around, and the sight compels Serra to scream.

"EEEEEEEEK!"

Enemies. They're everywhere, taking shelter inside ridges in the earth, behind hollowed trees, and inside the vegetation of thorny shrubs. Archers, swordsmen, axemen, and shamans all make up their number. However, behind the still present wall of fog, Samuel spots the silhouette of someone on horseback. He looks tall and strong for his build, surely a tough foe to best. His heart sinks...

He should have expected what happens next. The Fang pounce from their hiding places, rushing towards their positions hoping hoping to overrun. Firmly out-manned and outgunned, the group dig their heels into the earth and fall into some of the most brutal _hand to hand_ combat Samuel's ever taken part. They come at them in a never ending wave of hostility.

Keeping close to his allies, Samuel and Erk do their best to keep them at bay with magical attacks. Several fall to their might, but many more penetrate through and come into melee range. Hector takes the lead by raising his axe and decapitating the first man he saw, Lyn later doing the same with the Mani Katti. Serra too joins in the defense when a stray foe nearly implants a sword into Erk's side, delivering a fierce concussion with the hard end of her staff. The following battle goes on for only a few minutes, but it feels like an hour to the allies fighting for their survival.

Gritting his teeth as he runs out of magical spells, Samuel swiftly attaches his sword to his gauntlet and works to cover his portion of the perimeter. He uses the little speed he has to weave away from incoming attacks, utilizing every window of attack when possible. He fells about a half dozen opponents in this self-described rhythm of chaos, always keeping his back to his allies so that his blindside stays covered. At one point, he stumbles on a loose tree branch only for Lyn to catch him on the way down, who with her sword in hand, made the two look like Bonnie and Clyde amid a gunfight. They share a brief glance of reassurance before diving back into the action, blood dripping from open wounds covering both of their bodies.

Casualties were light initially, but gradually they ballooned to uncomfortable levels. Erk winces from the effect of several sword cuts to his ribs, while Hector does his best to lean on the support of his healthy right leg. He'd sprained the other because of bad form. Serra dizzily scans the area with her pair of dilated pink eyes, her body feeling weak from mana deprivation. Lyn tries her best to fight without the use of her left hand which was compromised from a broken wrist, a task swiftly proving impossible due to the Mani Katti's effectiveness as a two-handed weapon. Samuel isn't in good shape either, his head feels heavy from mana deprivation, his knee is a stone's throw away from popping, and his chest painfully heaves from bruises partially negated by his breastplate. He doesn't know how much more punishment the group can take, and they're quickly approaching their last stand.

Then again, perhaps he should spend less time thinking and more time observing the surrounding area. Maybe then he would've noticed the man creeping by his blind side.

 _!_

Suddenly, a man emerges from an unseen corner, his eyes fuming with an anger reminding Samuel of a wild boar. Unable to react, he whacks him straight in the mouth with the hilt of his sword. Samuel's head violently rocks back, the daze sending him into a spin. The foggy air around him morphs into a soup of white and crimson. Then, without another moment to reprieve himself, he hits the ground with a mighty thud.

Just like that, he blacks out...

* * *

 **?...**

Black. That's the only color Samuel sees now. It encapsulates his being like the darkness in the void, yet he knows he's not in that familiar realm. The key difference here is that the amorphous liquid common there isn't covering his skin, and that he can sense the distasteful taste of grass in his mouth. That and blood. Lots of it, all of his own...

Samuel can't move. He knows his friends are fighting around him, but he can't hear their blood-curdling cries of conflict. All he can sense is pain nagging at his face and sides. He clutches a patch of grass deep underneath his bruised palm to get himself up, but his arms refuse to budge. He stays there still like a doll devoid of life.

Voices whisper into his ear, beckoning him to close his eyes and give in to the comforting embrace of death. Their soothing words resemble a motherly figure Samuel had missing in his life for so long, but there's something...off about them. They're distorted by some demonic influence, as if alluding to the young man's fate should he pass into the next life. A life full of sin can only result in one thing, and with this knowledge in hand, Samuel keeps his eyes wide open.

However, even the creation of black magic has his limits. His strength wanes with every passing second, and eventually, the time will come where he'll succumb to death. He fights with every ounce in his body to regain his senses before the surrounding enemy does something about his comatose body, and just as he's about to give up, a voice calls out to him.

 _Get up, Sammy._

It sounds...arrogant and childlike. It takes a moment for him to register its familiar tone, but before he can conclude his internal investigation, the voice calls back again with a stronger intuition.

 _Come on! That's not funny! Get up!_

Sothis. She'd woken up from her nap to cheer him on. Never one to disappoint a friend, Samuel again pushes against the ground with increased vigor. His strength propels him an inch into the air, and then another. Then a foot. Just like that, he finds himself on his own two feet, the surrounding darkness evaporating as stars composed of white static and black figures replace it. The environment quickly becomes one he recognizes, though the pain only heightens with his increased sensitivity to reality.

 **Sothis:** _That's more like it. Go get them. Don't forget your teeth either. You'll need them if you want one of the cleric to put them back on._

 **Sam:** _Teeth?!_

Samuel anxiously looks down towards the dead grass below, and sure enough, there's a pair of broken teeth sitting inside a puddle of murky blood. He nearly gags at the sight, but obliges. His attacker may have knocked out some of his likeness, but there's no reason to make it permanent.

Just as he finishes with that grizzly affair, Samuel grabs onto his forehead as the familiar ringing of a concussion radiates through his cranium. Not only had the man knocked him out, but he also gave him some brain trauma. He curses at the man for putting him in a state of decreased battle readiness, but he can't sit for long. He shifts his gaze towards the new situation before him, and he bites his lip.

It's bad. Really bad. Although the perimeter formed by the group hadn't been compromised, more enemies seem to prowl then before. They sprawl around them like a colony of ants protecting their turf in a storm, their gazes as cold as absolute zero. His group of allies resemble zombies fighting off a pack of wolves with their bodies beaten to a pulp. Below his feet, Serra lies unconscious, having finally succumbed to the effects of mana deprivation.

"Samuel!"

Erk calls out his name, and the sound brings attention to the others in the group. Lyn looks on with a thankful, dirtied brow, though she's leaning over from a recent injury to her knee. Hector has an ungodly amount of injuries as well, but his training allows him to stay in as good of form as earlier, though for how much longer no one knows. Erk himself grits his teeth in pain from a brutal gash to his chest, which is exposed to the bare air around him.

He says, "Hey! Good to see you up again. You think you can fight?"

Samuel opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. His inflamed gums prevent any sort of intelligible speech without adding in a shock-inducing amount of pain, and with this in mind, the tactician simply nods. He digs into his waist and retrieves his prized red dagger, any other mode of combat impossible because of his silence coupled with the recent loss of his blade.

Although initially confused by his friend's omission of words, he looks at his bloody mouth and quickly realizes his predicament. He sighs and shakes his head, but he can do nothing else. They'd run out of vulneraries a long time ago.

Gripping his Wolf Beil with an expression only found on a man fighting for his life, Hector eyes dance across the battlefield. He exclaims, "Enemies! They're coming back!"

Samuel quickly comes to Lyn's side and grasps onto her shoulder when a dizzy spell nearly causes him to trip. The act startles her, but it doesn't surprise. In both of their minds, they'd rather fall together than separately. It all harkens back to that initial promise they made together. He'll be her peerless tactician, and she'll be his fearless warrior.

They look into each other's faces. A small tear drips down the side of Lyn's face when she sees the shattered bottom half of Samuel's mask, the blood forming a grim display of brutality only seen in war. He responds by shedding a tear of his own, not for the several grievous cuts streak across her face, but of the beauty still bringing emotion out of him.

Lyn says, "Cover my back, okay? I...I can't promise that I can protect you here. But...I'll do my best...to the very end."

"..."

Samuel nods and readies his stance while Lyn does the same. His ankle cries out in pain from having fallen in an awkward angle earlier, but he keeps his resolve. He's committed to not dying here. Not when he's at the doorstep of finally being reunited with his niece.

"Aaaaaaagh!"

The cluster of enemies surge forward. Hector deals with the first man by heaving his axe over his head, dispatching him with a fierce, if unclean blow to his shoulder. Samuel stabs the next man in somewhere in his ribs, following up with a knee to his hip when that cannot shake him off. Lyn leaps off the side of a tree and delivers a swift cut to a woman's stomach, limping as she collapses onto the ground. Erk focuses the last of his mana into a mighty storm of flame, caking the land with his blanket of red...

Several moments pass, and Erk collapses onto the ground from exhaustion. The next to fall is Lyn, who to Samuel's horror takes a flux spell square directly to her chest. Before he can reach out to aid her, however, Hector backs up closer to his position, his eyes beating with ferocity.

He says, "Heh...so this is it, huh?"

Samuel doesn't know what to say. Heck, he _can't_ say anything. He droops his shoulders in resignation.

Shaking some sweat from his brow, Hector says, "Pity. Oswin would've said something to inspire me. A good soldier that man is. It's a shame he's not here with me right now."

He looks back towards the rapidly approaching mass of humanity. Together, they observe the ominous, intimidating figure lurking in the fog. Hector grits his teeth, and mutters a silent curse as if to prevent the enemy from getting any closer. "Blasted Fang. We never stood a chance, did we...?"

 _!_

"Halt!"

Suddenly, a voice penetrates through the fog, compelling the enemy to stop. To everyone's astonishment, they clear way for the mounted figure who upon closing some distance below, reveals himself to be a man wearing nomadic clothing. His ornate dress reminds Samuel vaguely of the Rath's Kutolahan garb.

The man says, "You've fought well. Who is this platoon's leader so I may congratulate them before their untimely demise?"

Despite his arrogance, Samuel detects some honor in the man's form. As the leader of this attack, perhaps that former emotion has some merit.

Hector replies, "I'm afraid you must talk to me. You people knocked out the teeth of our poor tactician. To hell with it. Get it over with. I don't negotiate with people like you."

The insult flies over his head like an ill-placed arrow. Brushing the brown mane of his wild-looking horse, he says, "Are you sure about that? Surely, you'd like to know the location of our headquarters? Or rather, perhaps the whereabouts of your armored friend that we have prisoner?"

Hector's defiant expression quickly morphs into one of anger. The memory of Leila's injuries firmly in his mind, he shoots back. "What? Tell me where they are! Where is Oswin?!"

The mention of Oswin riles up some curiosity within Samuel. To his knowledge, that older knight had been Hector's retainer since he first departed on his journey, a tough assignment reserved for only the most loyal of Ostian knights. Over the months together, the two had developed a relationship akin to one shared between brothers. Knowing that, perhaps Samuel shouldn't be surprised that Hector feels concern towards his subject.

The man says, "I gain nothing by telling you that. Unless...no... I won't say anything. Just know this..."

He and his horse leap high into the air, momentarily disappearing past the ceiling of fog. The pair frantically scan the area for any hint of him, but their efforts prove meaningless when he proudly lands onto the ground nearby Erk. They look with horror as he effortlessly grabs the mage with one hand.

Hector exclaims, "Hey! What the hell do you think you're doing with him?!"

The man grips Erk's collar tighter; the force causing the mage to open his eyes weakly. Shocked out of unconsciousness, he needily shifts his gaze towards Hector and Samuel, desperate to avoid his grim fate. Unable to speak, he mouths his plea...

 _Help...me..._

Samuel shakes with anxiety for what's about to happen. He doesn't know if he should act. Is...this the sacrifice Ashera was talking about? Will Erk be the lone death of this incursion so that the rest of them may live? What happens if he tries to stop him? Will he die instead…?

What...should he do?!

...

Samuel grips his knife tightly and thinks back on the countless happy memories he shared with his uptight friend. They...no. He must not die here. Not when there's so much to do.

He spits out a wad of spit, and consumed with emotion, he rolls the dice. However…fate has other plans. He can only manage a single step forward when his ankle gives in, leading him to tumble onto the ground and drop his knife. A disappointing end to this series of events, although there isn't much he can do to change that. His body, as tough as it is, still has its limits.

Samuel writhes in pain, compelling the nomad to raise his brow. It doesn't take long for him to realize what he'd just tried to do. Samuel closes his eyes in anticipation for the inevitable punishment to come...but it never happens. When he catches a glimpse of the nomadic man, he's still in the same place he was before, unmoved.

The man says, "You...why do you have this familiar aura about you? Have we met before?"

Samuel shakes his head, but a sudden disturbance in his throat drives him to cough. The man tilts his head to get a better glimpse of the tactician, and after a moment, he clears his throat.

He says, "No. I'm mistaken. Oh well. Not that it matters..."

He draws his sword and points it over Erk's chest. Hector moves to act, but one of the leader's henchman quickly dispatches him by hitting his head with the flat end of a lance, knocking him out. The last obstacle between him and the mage's life dealt with, the man moves to make the killing blow.

He says, "Feel fortunate that you get to die before the great calamity, young mage. You were the single greatest hinderance to our victory today with your magic spells. As a man of Sacae, I will grant you a warrior's death. On my name of Uhai..."

 _!_

"LET GO OF HIM!"

Suddenly, a pink blur streaks across Samuel's peripheries. It comes up over to Uhai's side, momentarily pausing. To Samuel's shock...it's Serra.

 _What the hell?!_ Samuel thought. _Wasn't she unconscious?_

Although incapacitated up to the point nearly past of no return, the minor diversion created by Samuel had bought the pink cleric enough time to wake from her MD-induced coma and quickly make sense of her surroundings. It only took her a second to notice her former escort at the mercy of a man much bigger than her, but she didn't care. She placed the fate of herself and Erk firmly behind the strength of her saint and god.

 _I'll probably fail and get cut down for this._ Serra thought. _But...I don't care! I must save Erk! No matter what it takes! Elimine lend me strength!_

She raises her staff over her shoulder and mutters the incantation of what should be a healing spell. She focuses the rest of her mana tightly into the crystal at the top of her staff, covering the land with a thick sheet of light. The light drives away a great deal of fog from the area with the effect frightening the surrounding Fang. They squirm and scramble as if the next coming of Armageddon is upon them.

"That light..."

"Run! She's fiercer than she looks!"

"Retreat!"

Uhai turns to order his troops to return, as he knows the cleric only recanted a harmless healing spell. There's no way this small woman holds any terrifying power, he thought. She's just a cleric...

But he's wrong. That's because although Serra has indeed only recanted a healing spell, this only serves as a catalyst to bring forth magic to the crystal atop her staff. The magic only stays contained because of the crystal keeping it in check. If Serra removes the restraints, there's only one thing the magic can do in accordance with the law pertaining to the Conservation of Energy...

It has to release…all at once.

Samuel's eyes go wide with this realization. He uses the last of his strength to try to utter the words "Stop". Unfortunately, he can only mutter the "S" before succumbing to his weakness.

His last sight is of Serra smashing the end of her staff onto Uhai's temple. A ball of light encapsulates the trio, ultimately expanding to cover Samuel and the rest of the group...

Faced with no other option, he blacks out.

* * *

 **Later...**

Ringing. That's all he can hear. Nothing but the incoherent, consistent ringing synonymous with the sudden damage to his ear drums...

"Mmph! Meh...Lieu..."

 _What's that sound?_ Samuel thought. _Is it...Serra's voice?_

"Get up! Open your eyes! For the love of Saint Elimine..."

Samuel forces his eyes open, and to his astonishment, he finds himself looking at the underside of a tree. He's lying down on a makeshift mattress composed of multiple layers of blankets, the bottom ends of his bandaged feet ticking the individual blades of wet grass. He stares at the joyful-looking face of Serra, who has a thick bandage wrapped around her right eye.

"Huh? Where am—what the heck? I can talk?!"

Samuel opens his mouth and feels his teeth through the still-destroyed bottom portion of his mask. Sure enough, his teeth are there, albeit slightly crooked.

"Why is this..."

Serra awkwardly scratches the back of her head. She says, "I...kinda botched the healing process. It healed back incorrectly because I used a faster-working mending staff instead of a regular healing one. It's not my best work for sure, but I think a genius like myself managed well enough."

Samuel rolls his eyes from Serra's self-boosting statement and looks around at the impromptu camp. Several fires burn like candles in the fog, which at last began to simmer away, albeit slowly. The handful of people he spots are all nursing some kind of wound. Sain's head is heavily bandaged from a brutal cut, Canas rubs his shattered elbow with a generous helping of elixir, Bartre winces in pain as Rebecca applies a vulnerary to an open wound in his chest, and the red-haired troubadour herself has her left arm hung over a sling. He can spot some more silhouettes, but the fog combined with the setting sun obscures their identities.

Samuel remembers the insanity that happened earlier that day. He opens his mouth to ask about the well-being of his friends, but he hesitates once he notices the grim face on Serra's face. He gasps when she hands him a crumbled up note from her cloak.

She says, "Here...I know what you're about to ask. Read this. It's the casualty report."

The casualty report is a document Samuel has made at the conclusion of every battle. Usually, the document is light from the relative absence of serious injuries within the army, but this time it's different. The entire sheet of paper oozed with black from countless entries, and the sight make the tactician's hopes fly out the window.

Samuel says nothing as he reads it...

 _Casualty Report (August 18th, 981)_

 _Produced by Priscilla for the eyes of Lieutenant Kenan and anyone else it may concern._

 _Total Casualties: 29_

Samuel's balks when he sees that number. Twenty-nine included every single man and woman in the army, including one more. What had happened when he was unconscious?

Beating him to the question, Serra says, "Believe it or not, Florina ran into her sister earlier. Amid battle of all places...!"

Serra explains to him the addition of Fiora to the army, though Samuel doesn't care much. To him, she's just another hand to help around the army, and didn't care to listen to her life's story. Focusing his gaze back onto the report, he continues reading...

 _Eliwood: Mild concussion. Out for two days._

 _Hector: Bruises, scraps, and other miscellaneous injuries. Will be considered healthy by the end of the day._

 _Lyn: Broken bones around the ankle region along with varied minor injuries. Out for one day._

Samuel breathes a sigh of relief. His beloved is all right. Beaten up...but all right. Just like the rest of them. He skims over the rest of the document to find the entries of the others of interest...

 _Ninian: Stung by a bee and got an allergic reaction. Healthy._

 _Lucius: Mild injuries, but shaken to a point of near incoherence. Recovered shortly after leaving the battlefield, but may fall to his emotions. Recommended that he fight near a close friend of his such as Raven for support._

Lucius. He was with Rebecca's group when they got separated for whatever reason. Samuel suspects it's because they got ambushed, but he won't know unless he asks...

 _Sain: Broken ribs and ruptured vein. Should be healthy by the end of the day._

 _Rebecca: Severe concussion and serious injuries to her legs, body, chest, and torso. In a coma. Expected time of return is unknown. Given the extent of her head trauma, she may never be the same._

Samuel pauses and reads those words again. "She may never be the same." He takes a deep breath, and shivers as the color leaves his face.

...

After a brief moment of repose, Samuel forces himself to read the rest of the document. Personal control can wait. For now, he needs to have an adequate idea of the devastation that wrought his army. That's his duty as a tactician.

 _Erk: Moderate injuries and symptoms of mana deprivation. Woke up all right after a brief coma._

 _Kenan: Severe blood loss, multiple broken bones, and knocked out teeth._

 _Note: Serra said she'll deal with his teeth if I fix everything else. Ugh...what is this man's luck?! There hasn't been one battle where this guy hasn't somehow wound up needing treatment!_

 _Kenan, if you're reading this, I ask that you look out for yourself. Please..._

Samuel lets out a light chuckle. If someone in the army was trying to maintain perfect attendance in the cleric's tent, it's him. Someway, somehow, he always found himself in there at the end of a battle. His abysmal luck means he's more susceptible to critical hits than others, hence the prevalence for severe injuries. It's an unfortunate reality given his career choice (as unwilling as it is).

 _Kent: Lacerated stomach. The treatment was...unpleasant. Regardless, he's fine and healthy now. He deserves it, after what he went through._

 _Dorcas: Dislocated shoulder. Healthy._

 _Serra: Permanently disfigured. Otherwise healthy._

Samuel chokes on his own spit. Looking up at Serra's bandages, he says, "Permanently disfigured?! Serra..."

Serra turns away and does her best to fake a smile. However, Samuel looks right through it. He knows just like anyone else in the army how high Serra holds up her personal appearance. For something like a scar to blemish her blessed beauty must carry a heavy burden on the pink-haired cleric. Regardless, Serra tries her best to appear stout.

She says, "It's okay! I just lost my eye, that's all! You know, the only thing that explosion did was burn that blasted thing out. Bah! I didn't need it, anyway..."

Serra spends the next few minutes relating to Samuel everything that happened. Apparently, the magic within her staff released as expected, but the resulted explosion only comprised light, not flame. The light was so bright that in burnt out Serra's right eye, blinded Uhai, and created a beacon that alerted the entire allied army of their position. They all congregated at that position and rallied against the hidden army. Eventually, they won, leaving them to lick their wounds in a small field a short distance away from the main battlefield. It was a mighty display of strength from Serra, but it came at an enormous price.

Serra covers her wound with her hand, and the gleeful look on her face transforms into one less so. A tear leaves her left eye, dripping down to display sorrow.

She mutters, "I...I did this to save him. It...was the only thing I could do. Tell me, tactician. Am I not the biggest fool in Elibe? I am a cleric of Elimine, and I took an oath that I would let nobody snare my heart. Yet..."

Samuel gasps. Is...Serra about to say what he thinks she's about to say? He thinks back on a memory he had in his first life. When he had to bury Erk. She...was one of the people in attendance. What did she say then?

He...can't remember. His head is still dazed from the earlier blow to the head. He can only work with the info he has now.

Samuel says, "Serra. How do you feel about Erk?"

"..."

In an uncharacteristic move, Serra gets up and leaves. She says nothing as she does so. In Samuel's mind, he thinks the reasoning behind is because she fears facing the truth. The truth of the conflict between her heart and the saint she gave an oath to.

Faced with nothing else to do, Samuel reads the last few entries on the list...

 _Leila: Unconscious from blood loss. Out for two to three days._

 _Oswin: MIA._

Samuel blinks. Dumbfounded, he reads the last entry again.

 _MIA..._

Missing in action. Out of all the people to fight within the forest, he's the only person to have not returned with the group. That...can only mean one of a few things. He could be lost within the dense fog, but that's unlikely since he was with a group prior to his disappearance. He could be dead, but surely they would've found his body by now. Or, he could be captured. Samuel recalls the words of Uhai...

 _Or, rather, the whereabouts of your armored friend?_

Samuel's hands shake with fear. He doesn't know what's scarier. That the Black Fang has Oswin in their custody, or that he'll have to be the one to tell Hector of the news. Either way, he feels helpless. The hands of fate had acted just like Ashera said they would. Now, it'll be up to him and the rest of the army to find out what became of that trusted retainer.

Samuel balls up his fist and presses up against his forehead. This game with fate has to stop. Whether intentional or not, he's trading lives. Oswin's for Leila's. At times like these, he wonders if there's anyway to win. To produce an outcome where everyone lives, and no one dies. However, the answer isn't simple. Everything has balance, and he can't choose not to play. The fate of those around him depends on his ability to negotiate between the natural order of the world and the chaos within his heart.

Besides, he's got to keep going. He's got a little girl waiting for him. Perhaps if Samuel plays his cards right, maybe, just maybe, they'll get out of this island all right.

Or maybe he'll get everyone killed.

 **A/N: I'm killing folks...and I don't like happy endings either. Well, _unrealistic_ happy endings. Or...do I? I might change my mind later. Maybe.**

 **I have something really nice planned coming up by the end of isle arc. It should be fun!**


	74. Addendum 3

**Addendum 3**

 **By SodiumChloride12**

* * *

Hey guys! Sorry, no chapter today. The job we're working on is almost finished, though. I'll be cleared of my duties by this following Thursday, and will writing then unabated. There's something I want to talk about before then, though, so I'll make this quick.

I'm thinking about Book 3 of this series (the book I'll write after _90 Days. Son of Mind and Bane_ is Book 1, and _90 Days_ is Book 2) and although I'm comfortable writing to my heart's content, there's _one_ thing I want to run through you all before I brainstorm. It pertains to the protagonist's love interest (of whom might already be clear by now), and I feel y'all can help me determine who to pair with him in this difficult decision.

I've set up a poll (accessible through my profile, unfortunately not observable through mobile cause FF code sucks) that has 7 waifus that I feel can provide an interesting and entertaining part to the story. Each have their own set of advantages or disadvantages. Their personality will affect the protagonist's way of thinking, just as Lyn has toward Samuel (and vice versa), so don't think this decision won't hold major sway on the storyline.

Personally, I don't have any favorites. Y'all don't have to either. I set the poll up where you can select two choices of equal significance. It likely won't take you any more than a minute to do.

I will leave the poll open for a while, and will release the results when I'm almost complete with Book 1. As usual, thank you for your continued support! Next Friday, we will continue onto our regularly scheduled programming. In the meantime, I'll leave you with this phrase my brother once told me, which I think sums up well a sentiment that'll play a major role in the coming chapters.

"No Kings, No Masters. The common man will only prosper when that becomes true."

He might be an anarchist, lol.

* * *

 **P.S:** The protagonist an the love interest _will_ be of similar age. Also, forgive me for grammar mistakes. I wrote this during my lunch break with no editing. I'll fix it on Sunday.


	75. Wounds

**Chapter 68: Wounds**

 **By SodiumChloride12, derived from Fire Emblem, owned by Nintendo.**

 **A/N: WE ARE BACK! WOOHOO!**

 **Please vote in my poll if you haven't already. I would really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, appreciate it!**

 **FWI: The protagonist is Sam/Lyn's son. If y'all want to get a feeling of how he is, go back to the end of Chapter 58.**

 **(Currently, Shanna has a plurality with 42% of the vote).**

 **N: A pair of villains lurk in the forest. Meanwhile, the army tries to lick their wounds from the previous battle. Oswin is still gone. How will this sense of unease affect the army?**

* * *

 **…?**

Ephidel says, "So, you've come..."

The golden eyed morph's glacial gaze interlocks with Jaffar's, his cape waving lightly with the wind. They're high above on a hill overlooking a wide forest with the sight of a rising sun covering the land with a veil of warm, orange light. Morning dew drenches both of their boots with moisture, and below, the hazy, white fog clears. The surrounding air feels cool and muggy, though otherwise fair.

Jaffar replies, "I bring news. The traitor's extermination was a failure. Lord Nergal had ordered completion of another assignment prior to her escape, which took precedence. This Leila would've taken too much time. However, before leaving for that mission, I encountered a foreign army nestled deep in the forest."

Intrigued, Ephidel raises his brow, not from the appearance of the army. That he already knew, but of the encounter himself, "Go on."

Jaffar nods silently, "The group I encountered was a minor squad of five persons. I recognized one of them as the tactician we ran into in Carazan."

Ephidel's face stays static, uninterested in that detail. He says, "Okay, so they've recruited him. Why is this important?"

Jaffar replies plainly, "Well, he had white hair. Curly white locks, like snow. It was difficult to distinguish underneath his hood and mask, but visible."

Ephidel pauses, and closes his eyes, as if calculating the information. He takes in a moment of repose, and Jaffar waits in silence. Eventually, he lifts his gaze.

He says, "I see. Our little white rabbit had taken on a forged identity. This is to throw off my calculations, no doubt. However, although myself and Limstella do not wield the ability to identify him through cover, the mask and the fabric are a triviality. We've suspected it was him for some time, but we refused to take drastic action unless we had undeniable proof, which we found difficult. My minion in Caelin would've surely detected his presence...but unfortunately it perished before it could inform me, as did many others in their wake. No matter, the rabbit is here. What's more important is his current standing of strength…"

Ephidel postulates about this fresh development and thinks about how his master will react to it. Nergal has already known about his presence on the isle, yet, this still feels like a surprise. The tactician had a habit of vanishing from their sights for weeks, sometimes months at a time. In that, not only has the tactician amassed more strength, but also the intelligence required to best superior beings and armies..

Jaffar asks, "Is there anything you need from me? I must depart soon so I may complete another mission from Nergal, so if it's something, make it brief."

Ephidel shakes his head, then turns away from him and towards the underlying forest. He scans over the vast area, looking for a man within its dense vegetation. A man once considered his equal.

He says, "That is unnecessary. All precursory tasks from my master are complete. My sole mission now is to eliminate that... _masked mercenary_."

Suddenly, a stray question streaks through Jaffar's mind. Although a rarity, he indulges anyway. "Ephidel, if I may? What's so important about this tactician? He's but a man. He and his army are bound to come across the great sage Aion. Surely he'll deal with them."

Ephidel shakes his head. _He just doesn't get it_. "You don't understand...and you never will. Know this. It's not what he is, but what he will become that brings concern to my master."

Ephidel takes a step forward, his boot digging deep into the soggy earth. His golden eyes cut through the fog, moving with a precision unmatched by any human. Although the morph never exhibits any sort of emotion, Jaffar swears he detects a hint of resolution within him.

"I will kill that man. No matter what it takes. I won't leave it up to Aion to do the job, either..."

* * *

 **Somewhere...**

"Rebecca..."

Samuel frowns as he watches his friend slowly take in metered gasps of air within her solitary tent. He lifts her hair away from her still, pale face. Shame trickles through his veins as he recalls how merry she used to look. How she always went to task with a smile, regardless of whether it were in the mess hall or on the battlefield. Sometimes, it felt people like her made up the very soul of the army.

Samuel bites his lip and doesn't react when he tastes blood on his tongue. He's at fault for this. Rebecca is this way because he decided to split up the army. Had he not done so, perhaps they would have gained momentum against the enemy ambush by sheer number. Perhaps...Oswin would still be with them now...

 _!_

A sudden sting of pain hits Samuel on the forehead, a peripheral symptom of the concussion he suffered the day before. He takes a step back and nearly loses his balance, but catches himself on the thick canvas of Rebecca's tent. He curses this sudden blemish of weakness...

 _Damn it._ He thought. _I need some fresh air. I feel miserable right now._

Before leaving, he digs into his robe and takes out a white flower he picked up earlier, putting it by Rebecca's bedside. Though this is a potentially odd gesture, the tactician only has good intentions at heart. His mother had taught him that white flowers represented protection for a loved one. If anyone in the army needed protection, it's her.

Samuel pushes the tent flap open, and winces when stars litter his vision. He sways a little to the right, and instinctively motions his right hand forward to make sure he doesn't collide with anyone. This proves to be a wise gesture, as he accidentally grabs onto the collar of someone who'd come to visit Rebecca.

"Erm...Lieutenant?"

The stars clear out, and Samuel locks eyes with the only knight in the army that has a positive opinion of him; Lowen. He has a yellow rose in his grasp, along with an unnaturally combed tuft of hair. It still covers up the area directly in front of his eyes, but Samuel can't relate it to a mop anymore. A puff of cotton would be a better description.

Realizing he still has a hold of the youthful man's clothing, Samuel lets go. He composes himself as best he can. "Sorry! I had a bit of a dizzy spell there. That...yellow rose there. Are you here for Rebecca?"

Lowen nods his head and steps past him. His body language suggests he doesn't have much time to spare. They are due to move out by the end of the hour. Samuel should make haste, too. He couldn't turn down the opportunity to visit his friend, however, now that's done, he needs to get back to work.

 _Back to work._ Samuel thought _. I'm never shy of that nowadays, ain't I?_

* * *

 **Nearby...**

"Lady Lyn..."

Lyn pauses when a voice calls out to her amidst her morning training. It's familiar, but not the one she usually hears during times like these. Sometimes, her beloved would come by to observe her technique for wrinkles he could add to his own form. However, this voice has none of the slight twang Lyn has grown accustomed to. Instead, it came from someone quiet and polite.

Lyn sheathes her sword as her gaze meets with Ninian. She carries a worried expression she usually has on her face, but something about her suggests this time the gesture is genuine. Lyn wonders what could possibly be occupying her mind.

She asks, "Ninian, it's a pleasure to see you here. Are you all right?"

To Lyn's astonishment, she shakes her head. "N-No. It's Lord Eliwood. He..."

Lyn raises her brow curiously. Yesterday, Eliwood suffered an injury that left him on the DND (Do Not Deploy) list. Midway through his recovery, the clerics prescribed three shots of whiskey to ease his painful headache. In a world without many accessible painkillers, this was the only option they had.

Lyn asks, "What about him? He's not making a fool of himself, is he? I never took him as an overbearing drunk."

Ninian replies, "Please...just look..."

Lyn lets Ninian's words sink in for a bit and then shrugs her shoulders. She follows her through the thick forest, mentally preparing herself to meet with her friends…

 **...**

She finds him alone by a tree stump. A tea set neatly placed on top of it, Lyn's baffled when she notices Eliwood poshly raise a cup to his lips. She shoots a glance towards Ninian, who seems to shrink behind a tree nearby.

Lyn mutters, "...What?"

To Lyn, she hasn't possibly seen anything more...unusual. Eliwood was never the person to socialize over tea, especially not after the worst day in the army's history. A clear-headed Eliwood would've resigned himself to discrete support towards those worst affected, like Hector. But...Lyn supposes things like head injuries can do this thing to people. Besides, she'd seen Samuel do odder.

Lyn briefly considers taking Ninian and walking away, but Eliwood notices their presence before she can. He raises his glass in a manner that reminds her of the many lessons her governess taught her, and her stomach sinks.

He says, "Oh, hello! Wonderful day we're having! Would you two care to join me for tea?"

Eliwood's words are warm and inviting, like an Ilian hot spring. Despite her initial reservations...nothing seems _off_ about this offer. Perhaps...the young noble from Pharae has good intentions. Besides, Lyn could use a bit of time to unwind from the debacle of yesterday. They all could...including Ninian.

 _I wonder what Ninian found disturbing about him._ Lyn thought _. He seems normal...ish._

Lyn takes a seat on a log of timber, and oddly, Ninian does, too. Lyn wants to scrunch over and discreetly ask her why she'd come for her attention when she seems fine being here...but that would be a careless display. Instead, she shoots her glances to read her mind based on her body language...

Ninian...seems normal. Amidst their sips of tea and idle small talk, nothing goes out of the ordinary. Heck, she even appears to be enjoying herself. Coming to this realization, a tinge of spite surges up her throat. Had she just ended her training to attend a tea party?

What's going on here?

Lyn doesn't have to wait long to find out. About half an hour into the social event, Eliwood raises his glass towards Ninian. His eyes radiating with confidence, he divulges into flattery.

He says, "Ah...fair Ninian. Your hair is shining like a cool waterfall today. What luck I have to be here with you and Lady Lyndis."

Ninian's face turns red upon hearing those words. She turns towards Lyn and cups her hands over her right ear.

She whispers, "You see? This! Why is he doing this?"

Truth be told, Lyn's a bit stunned. She never took Eliwood to be an overconfident flirt, though she supposed three shots of liquid courage had this effect on people. What's all the more interesting to her is evidently, the young lord had finally stumbled upon somebody he genuinely felt attracted to. A rare feat considering he felt nothing towards her, save their friendship.

But...this is good. Great, even. Eliwood likely wouldn't be acting this way if it weren't for the alcohol in his system, and had he continued on his own way, he likely would've kept his feelings to himself for Elimine knows how long. Although he'll inevitably return to his ways when he sobers up, this memory will forever ingrain itself in both Lyn and Ninian's minds. Perhaps...Lyn can help him express his emotions when that time comes. Eliwood doesn't like to ask for assistance, but he'll need it here.

Lyn closes her eyes and takes another sip of tea. Her tongue feels fuzzy when she takes in its fulfilling taste, the taste of something amiss. Yes, she definitely doesn't regret coming here. Not one bit.

* * *

Samuel coughs as the dirt from the travelling army enters his lungs. Shaking debris from his curly white hair, he lifts a cloth to his mouth. He observes the simple forms of his allies from his cloudy irises, elated to be seeing them at least somewhat clearly today.

Yesterday was bad…really bad. Although a victory by a strategic standpoint, the lingering wounds from then had left everyone on edge. Headaches rack half the army, while sore muscles and bones affect the other half. This unforeseen reminder of their own mortality served as a huge blemish on the otherwise fruitful military career of their tactician. Regardless, they continue to throw their support behind him, though not everyone holds such high approval.

"So…what do you think about the tactician?"

Samuel's ears perk up when he hears a woman's voice. It came from Fiora, asking another soldier about his opinion of the army's leadership. An honorable knight, she desired to gauge his competence. The person in inquiry is Raven, of whom Samuel knows holds a (slight) positive opinion of him. Although he never fancied himself a spy in his libertarian mind, his limitless want for _chisme_ (gossip) pushes him to tighten his hood and eavesdrop. Unwilling to reveal his intentions, he blends in behind a group of his peers.

Raven raises his brow at Fiora's remark. He asks, "Huh? What do you mean?"

The pegasus knight replies, "I'd like to know a bit about this tactician. You see, the last strategist I worked under sent me and my unit directly into the guarded coastlines of the isle. Although the order was made by Lord Pent of Etruria, I still find it infuriating that the man we enlisted to help us ended up bringing our downfall. I...I must know if this man is a genius. I won't be comfortable with anything else."

Samuel rolls his eyes. He can hardly call himself a genius. Hell, to be honest with himself, he doesn't know how he became a tactician to begin with. Perhaps this knowledge came about from programming by the hand of Nergal, or some innate ability to "fake it till you make it". Either way, he fancied himself a much better engineer than a strategist.

Raven says, "I...who are you? Are you a spy? If you are, then get away from me. I don't know anything about the cell of dissent."

Samuel's right eye twitches. _The cell of dissent?_

Fiora replies, "The cell...I'm unsure of what you're speaking about. I am Fiora, a true knight of Ilia. I only want to learn more about the tactician, nothing else."

Raven groans, his brow radiating with disinterest. He says, "Why, are you trying to get to know him? Do you want to get in his pants or something? Good luck with that. Rumor has it the Sacaen already beat you to it."

Samuel's mouth falls wide open. Those scathing remarks had burned straight through him like a white-hot iron rod. He...had no idea Raven held this opinion of him. Before he can get a grip on this newfound information, though, Fiora does the one thing deserving to a young man with a disrespectful mouth.

 _!_

"Ack!"

Raven recoils back when Fiora balls up her fist and punches him square across the jaw. This ends up dislocating it, undoing the work of a red-haired cleric who'd just healed it that morning. The people in the vicinity immediately spring to life. Kent and Priscilla rush over to Raven's side, the latter healing him while the former held him down to prevent a retaliatory jab. Likewise, Florina meets with her sister, whose eyes burn with anger unfamiliar.

Her sister preventing any further incursions, Fiora exclaims, "Filthy! Detestable! Degenerate! How dare you suggest something so horrible! I AM A PROUD SOLDIER OF ILIA! I will not reduce myself to such filth! You damn cur!"

 _Filth..._

Samuel brushes the unkempt beard under his chin and frowns. Then he shoots a glance at his brown skin, tanned from the several hours basking in sunlight aboard the ship of Davros. He doesn't know what Fiora was referring to, as some people on the continent of Elibe held...less than favorable views of people like him. He secretly hopes it's because of his lack of grooming and not something out of his control.

Wary of the sudden introduction of attention, Samuel discreetly makes his way towards the rear of the caravan. He rubs his chin with thought, trying to piece together the interesting bits of information he'd heard. But none take higher priority than the mention of the so-called cell of dissent. He wonders what such an organization could entail. The only guarantee seems to be its perceived opposition to himself.

He...doesn't understand. Why would anyone want to oppose him? He spent so much time and effort trying to form amicable relationships with as many people as he could. Eliwood, Rebecca, Lowen, Matthew, Erk, Canas...the list of names goes on. Yet...perhaps this is where his problems lie...

Ruffling up his curly white hair, Samuel reflects. Despite being a morph, the social limitations of a human being still apply to him. That means he can only really form meaningful relationships with a finite amount of people. Focusing on this detail, he realizes that his endeavor of fraternization could be interpreted as favoritism towards the neglected members of his troop, inevitably resulting in some resentment. But...there's a fine line between having a general dislike for someone and forming a formal opposition.

 _And with a name like the cell of dissent!_ Samuel thought. _What cocky bastards!_

Samuel's green liberty-loving ethos swirls red with authoritarianism. He plots of ways to identify and eliminate these mutinous members infecting his army. Considering a multitude of options, he ultimately comes to one that seems foolproof...

Infiltration.

* * *

"Matthew, a word?"

The thief raises his brow as he feels a force tug on the back of his robe. Not losing a step, he turns around and notices a new companion had joined him in his walk. It's Samuel, and he has an unfamiliar air to him.

Smiling, he says, "Oh! Hey, what are you—"

 _!_

Samuel pinches his rib, stopping him mid sentence. "Keep your voice down, I don't want the others to hear."

Suspecting something amiss, Matthew nods silently. He shifts his gaze towards the crowd nearby, marching slowly towards the interior of the isle. They're all outside earshot, and the windy nature of the environment provided some noise as it bristles the leaves of the surrounding forest. This is about as private as a place that could be had on the road.

Samuel says, "Friend, I need a job done from you. I need an informant."

Curious about his tactician's sudden (and unlikely) interest in espionage, Matthew tilts his head. "An informant? The only one of those we had for the Fang is already in our care. Oh, by the way, I need to thank you for that. If it weren't for the efforts of yourself and the others...I would've lost her..."

Samuel pinches him again, and Matthew nearly yelps like a cat. "Stay on topic. You can flatter me with your thanks later. I hear there's a cell of dissent that has formed in opposition to me. I'm not sure what their purpose is, but I've reason to believe they want to remove me from my position as tactician."

Intrigued, Matthew leans into the conversation. "What? That's...preposterous. The troops have no say in who leads them. Only the three lords can decide that."

It's military standard for the superior commander(s) to have the final say in all matters regarding the army structure. They're in charge of things such as finances, objective, and ultimately, leadership and the delegation of duties. Those under rank and file have no say in who leads them, for better or for worse.

Samuel replies, "Yes...that is true. But, there appears to be some who doubt my abilities as a strategist. This likely stems from the dreadful battle we had yesterday, but it surprises me to hear they formed so quickly."

"I doubt the organization only came about recently. What sounds more probable is they'd been around for some time."

Samuel replies, "That makes sense...but that raises a new set of questions. Why would they want to oppose me? I've treated this army fairly!"

Matthew says, "That's what you think, but others might be inclined to disagree. Here's what I know. People have always been uneasy about your masked identity, and there are...rumors going around about you. They talk about sightings of you being with Lady Lyndis, secretive meetings taking place away from the public and lords, you holding certain political views desiring to upend the current system of nobility, and musings about a controversial past. Some have gone as far as to call you Azazel, or a resurrected version of him."

Samuel flinches, his stomach sinking faster than a capsized vessel. His mind in tatters, he tries to make sense of it all. He doesn't understand how this could have happened. He'd never heard such rumors in his many months with the army. Not in this life, or in his other one.

"Wha...what?! How can that be?! How do they kn—"

 _!_

This time, Matthew pinches Samuel before his nerves could break their bubble of anonymity, "Calm yourself."

Samuel obliges and quickly glances over towards Guy, who's talking to Priscilla. He's the only nearby who seems to have noticed Samuel's little charade, but he's too enamored in his fraternization with his newfound friend to be of much bother. To the duo's relief, he mostly ignores them both.

Samuel says, "My apologies...I'm just a bit shaken. Just...how did they find out about all that? I could've sworn I covered my tracks well. The only person that had a whiff of what I was doing was you, Lyn, and..."

Samuel pauses, "..."

The veins in Samuel's forehead bulge out, their red fervor resembling a cherry. He bunches up his fist, only stopping short of punching a nearby tree. "Kent...that blasted red knight. I could've sworn that Lyn swore him to secrecy, but, there's no other way. He's the only man that could reveal these rumors to the public. He's absolute scum."

Matthew replies, "I...doubt he'd have the nerve. He's an honorable man, and he would never dare to act against his liege's orders. Believe me when I say that. These Lycian Knights would cut off heir own arm before taking such course."

"…Eh…"

Samuel raises his finger to protest...but he relents. Matthew has a point. As much as he wants to demonize Kent, he's still a dedicated knight in the service of his beloved. For Samuel to think Kent would stoop so low as to betray her word, it is admittedly callous.

He sighs. "You're right, but that leaves us with one significant question. Who has it out to get me? Also, we need to find out who makes up the ranks of the cell of dissent. For all we know, they could make up over half of the people in this army, or only comprise a small fringe group bordering on irrelevancy."

Further pondering on the cell drives a nail through Samuel's psyche, initiating the embers of paranoia. Biting his lip, he tastes the metallic hint of blood on his tongue. It's not from the clots of blood on his mouth, but from a recent self-induced cut on his chapped skin.

He says, "This couldn't have turned out any worse. On the saint's good name, Matthew. It feels like any of these people could plot against me. How...how do I know the people I call my f-friends aren't in league with them, t-too?"

The stresses of his position, situation, and past catching up to him, Samuel shivers as a cocktail of unsettling emotions creeps into his blood. His eyes dilate, and he focuses all of his energy into not losing his nerve. He barely steadies himself just as he's about to fall off the edge of his mental cliff, using his metallic limb to steady his shaking hand.

Calming his stutter, Samuel says, "I...no. That makes little sense. If I keep thinking this way I'll just grant myself unnecessary burdens. I need to keep my confidence in my friends. Are...you my friend, Matthew?"

Matthew's face wrinkles periodically with thought. He finds his friend's behavior...a tad odd. "Eh? Why wouldn't I be? You holding up well? Maybe that guy smacked your teeth too hard yesterday, Samuel."

Nodding his head, the tactician blushes slightly. He replies, "Haha...yeah. I'll just...drink some tea during lunch..."

Matthew says, "Tea? I think you're going to need a lot more than that, brother. You...need a vacation."

 _A vacation..._

The duo stare at each other as if digesting the word, only to break into laughter. Tears rolling from their eyes, their sudden outburst brings about several turned heads from their peers. It doesn't matter, anyway. They steer away from the delicate topic of their earlier conversation, settling in on simple small talk.

Smiling, Matthew rests his hand on Samuel's shoulder. He says, "A vacation...if only. One day, I hope we could all go on one of those."

"Heh...you and me both."

* * *

 _Sammy..._

Samuel opens his eyes, expecting to wake from the power nap he'd taken during their lunch break. Although he reunites with the material world...something about it is unusual. Very unusual. Shifting his feet against the grassy earth, he scans his surroundings.

He's alone with his back against an evergreen tree. The canopy of thick leaves above his head leaks slightly with light, creating individual streaks of glow. They reveal an environment of vines tucked away behind the grander trees, shrubs surrounded by tall grass, and a small creek with crystal clear water. Samuel rubs his eyes as he takes it all in, but stops when he spots a little girl hiding behind some vegetation.

The little girl is small, with fair skin and a freckled face. She has on a purple dress, an outfit that seems a tad bit too big for her. Her curly, white hair reminds Samuel of his own, and her red eyes...

 _No..._

 _Is that...Lani?!_

Samuel blinks, and the girl vanishes from his sight. He frantically gets up and goes to the tree she'd taken shelter by and sighs with disappointment when she's no longer there. All that remains is a red ribbon tucked behind a loose piece of bark...

 _That's odd...I could've sworn I had this in my bag..._

 _!_

"Lieutenant Vacia, we have a situation..."

Breaking out of his haze, a mental sting inflicts Samuel's senses. The entire area around him swirls briefly, eventually resting to the same arrangement, but this time with one difference. He finds himself looking straight at the face of Fiora. His head feels heavy as if filled with water, and it hurts to move it around drastically. Regardless, he tries to make sense of what the young lady is telling him, lest her message fall on deaf ears.

Samuel says, "Eh? What...what did you say?"

Fiora replies, "We've a situation that needs your attention, Lieutenant. You told me to wake you should something arise. Hence, why I am here."

Groaning, Samuel wipes his face with his dry hands. He remembers telling her that. Unable to pity himself for more sleep, he concedes to Fiora's message.

He says, "Ugh...okay, I'll be right there. I...just had the weirdest dream. I could've sworn I just saw my niece."

Fiora raises a brow. "We all wish to see loved ones in our dreams, Kenan. I for one, long for the day I can reconcile with my second sister. But...we mustn't speak of such things here. Duty calls."

Fiora turns around and vacates the area. Left alone, Samuel takes one last glimpse of the tree he saw Lani in before springing up to his feet. It seems unfettered and unmoved from any sort of movement, save for the wind touching the large canopy of leaves. He savors the sense of nature for a bit, losing himself with thought.

 _That Fiora lady is quite reliable. I need to write that down in my file on her before I interview her once this whole isle business is taken care of. Hopefully by then Lani will be with me. It'd take a huge weight off my shoulders. Yeah...I could use something like that. Some relief from this burden of worry..._

Samuel sighs, and rubs his temple as if pressing on it could release the pressure pent up in his forehead.

 _I...really hope she's okay. If that damn Nergal did anything to her, I'll make sure he regrets it. Elimine knows I've sacrificed enough to get to this point. For her to have any additional trauma on top of the pain she already has now...I think I'll…_

No...I'll think about that when I get there. Let's go see what's going on. It can't be that bad...

Samuel should have chosen better words...

* * *

There's a hushed silence over the crowd. They clear for the tactician as he enters with a stone-faced Fiora leading the way, his expression covered by the mask. Shifting his gaze around the short field, he spots a conglomerate of people surrounding some object amid a clearing inside the forest, as with the terrified faces of some of the weaker members of the army.

Underneath his mask, Samuel is shocked. Around them, he observes his friend Florina sobbing softly with Serra, Sain and Lowen staring at him sternly, Dorcas and Bartre noticeably shaken, and Erk and Canas looking like they'd just experienced a vicious crime. The entire army shares the same sentiment, and the cries of mourning in the air makes the scene resemble a funeral...or some other great tragedy.

"Oh my..."

Samuel flinches as Lucius faints in front of him, landing comatose on his escort's arms. Initially, the Pegasus knight is unsure of what to do with the holy man, but Samuel's not about to wait for her to find out. He passes them both, his intent to see with his own eyes of what had caused the monk so much distress.

Clearing away the shoulders of some of his peers, he says, "What's going on here? Why does the entire camp look spooked? Why is th—"

"...Oh..."

Samuel's stomach sinks to the center of the planet, his heart feeling as if it just stumbled upon a bear trap. Before him is quite possibly the most diabolical, brutal, and demeaning thing he's ever seen. All he can do stare at it in silent shock, the temperature in his veins dropping to absolute zero.

Standing in the center of the crowd, on a patch of dead grass, is a pike with its sharp end pointed towards the sky. On it...is Oswin's head. His familiar rift of short brown hair is nowhere to be seen, apparently shaven by the Fang who captured him. His lifeless eyes stare directly at him, and the pool of underlying blood trickles towards his foot. Flies and other insects scatter about his decaying flesh, some of—

 _!_

Thud!

His head spins, and with one mighty stumble backwards, Samuel faints.

* * *

 _"The tactician isn't at fault...Oswin was being reckless..."_

 _"Reckless? Do you really take MY retainer as reckless?! Listen to yourself speak, Lyndis!"_

 _"All right, Hector. Calm down..."_

 _"Calm down?! Do you really think I'm going to calm down after seeing my right hand man's head on a stick in the middle of enemy territory, Eliwood?! He was a good knight of Ostia. He didn't deserve to die like this..."_

 _"Ah...Lyn...I'm so scared..."_

 _"It's okay, Florina. I'm sure the Lieutenant will learn from this..."_

 _"Learn from this?! We ought to court martial him! How many learning mistakes are we going to take until the whole army meets the end of a blade?!"_

 _"Hector...he was flawless up to this point. He's only...human..."_

 _"Human? Do you expect me to believe that with that mask behind his head? For all we know..."_

 _"Stop it. I'm sure he has his reasons for wearing that mask. I understand how you feel...but we musn't devolve into assigning scapegoats. That battle was rough on all of us...including Kenan. Just look at him..."_

 _"If you weren't standing over him I'd shake him awake. Lousy tactician you have in your employ, Eliwood. Say, Lyn, why won't you step aside?"_

 _"I won't let you hurt him."_

 _"Say, this time it was Oswin...but what if it were Florina? Can you say to my face that he'll keep her safe...?"_

* * *

"The Lieutenant would never hurt Florina, much less send her out to her death..."

Jolted awake, Samuel opens his eyes. He finds himself within the safety of a tent hastily set up, likely done so after the grim sight the army witnessed earlier. Raising his head, Samuel scans the room, noticing the presence of Hector, Eliwood, Florina, and Lyn. Directly in front of him behind a barricade of chairs are the two women, one of which has her weapon drawn.

Lyn says, "Don't step any closer. I'm warning you."

Hector tries to step forward, but his red-haired friend holds him back. He struggles to keep him still, but somehow manages the task.

Hector exclaims, "Bah! I just want to...talk to our little lieutenant. Get to know him a bit. I want to know why he's so incompetent."

His gaze shifts towards him, and Samuel gulps. His eyes are intimidating, belonging to a lion, fitting given his bloodline to the leading family in Lycia. They remind the egalitarian tactician of his distaste for nobility, despite the efforts of another blue blood in his stead.

Lyn says, "He is not incompetent! I'd like to see you lead an army, Hector! I bet if you did, you'd lose the whole force in a single battle!"

Lyn herself has the vigor of a Sacaen bison cornered by a pack of wolves. She flails and bashes about, waving her sword in front of her as though it were horns.

Trying to be a mediary for the two, Eliwood calms the air. "Easy, Lyndis. Put the sword down. Hector, drink some water. We should be fighting the Fang, not each other."

Visibly fuming, they reluctantly oblige. Lyn sheathes her blade while Hector basically drenches his hair with a cool, glass of water. The earlier conflict behind them, they try to make do with dialogue. But...a sudden realization changes things.

Peering over her shoulder, Florina notices Samuel's half-asleep form. She says, "Mr. L-Lieutenant? You're awake?"

"Awake?!"

Suddenly, and without warning, Hector barrels through the barricade of chairs. He effortlessly knocks Lyn and Florina to the side, winding his arm over to grab Samuel by the collar. Feeling more vulnerable than ever, Samuel forces himself not to shriek with fright.

Lifting herself from the ground, Lyn exclaims, "Hey, let go of him!"

Samuel stares into Hector, feeling every degree of anger from his gaze. The blue-haired lord is furious, and nothing can stop him from exacting his will.

Samuel says, "H-Hector..."

Unable to control himself, Hector screams to his face, "You lousy, incompetent fool! Your decision led to the death of my most trusted retainer! Not only that, but we nearly got annihilated from within the fog! Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

"I...don't do well in the fog. I'm really sorry, and hope to do be—"

Samuel's head recoils back as Hector punches him in the face. Leaning forward, the tactician's mouth oozes crimson, and it leaks out from the bottom of his obsidian, replacement mask. Temporarily dazed, Samuel sees stars at every corner of his vision.

Lyn exclaims, "You brute! Draw your weapon! I'll pummel your self-taught fighting style with my own Sacaen form!"

 _!_

"That's enough!"

Suddenly, Eliwood raises his voice, shocking both of the aggressors out of their window of red. He puts himself between the two and uses his right hand to motion towards Hector.

"Drop him."

"But..."

"I said drop him."

Unused to this authoritative side of his friend, Hector obliges. Samuel falls flat, his buttocks taking a hard hit. Composing himself, he stands up as fast as he can, but nearly stumbles over Florina.

"Eeeep!"

"S-Sorry!"

Eliwood says, "I will not tolerate infighting within our ranks. We are lords, and we must set an example for our subjects. If we fall to such immature conflict, our army will surely fall to insurrection. Does everyone here understand?"

All nod, and, content with the answer, Eliwood vacates the tent. The flap making the front entrance has hardly a moment to settle when Hector, too, leaves, his head still steaming in discontent.

Silence surrounds the room, and all of a sudden, Florina breaks into tears. Lyn does her best to calm her down, and all Samuel can do is stare in bewilderment.

"...That was scary..." she sniffles.

Resting her hand on her friend's back, Lyn says, "There there...it's all right. Everything's going to be okay."

Between Hector's disapproval, his bloody mouth, and the memory of Oswin's head on his mind, Samuel begins to feel the consequences of his actions bear down on him in full force. He stares down on his calloused hands, his eyes dancing around the individual cuts, scabs, and dirt covering them.

 _So this is war...huh?_ Samuel thought _. Not only am I fighting the enemy lurking within these woods, but I fight some of my own allies, too. How did I let this slip away?_

Samuel frowns as his throat tightens. A part of him wants to cry. A part of him wants to run away from this mess, to escape to a place without the stresses of dangling between life and death. Where he doesn't have to worry about suspect friends holding dubious opinions towards him...

 _Heh...I think I'd suffer through that regardless of where I am. The human condition never changes..._

Clasping his fingers, Samuel raises his head. He notices Florina had quieted significantly, with her head comfortably laying over Lyn's lap. The ponytailed nomadic girl softly smiles as she strokes her lavender hair, of which drapes over her head as she slowly dozes off. The act reminds Samuel of the few times she did the same to him, and gets jealous, if only slightly.

Lyn's lap. Something about it has a soothing sensation that can ease any anxious soul. To Samuel, the best comparison he can assign to it is his mother's homemade tortillas. Excellent to behold, but rarely ever seen. He'd do anything to lay his head with his eyes interlocked with her pair of green...

 _That's not fair..._

Samuel sighs, the sound bringing attention to himself. Lyn's smile morphs into a frown, and she sighs as well. The memory of recent events weighs heavy on her, just as it did with Samuel.

She says, "I'm really sorry about that. I know you already have a lot on your mind. You do your best to keep us safe...and now you have to worry about the opinions of the people you call your allies."

Samuel shakes his head. "No...this is my fault. Had I not been so...neglectful in my decision making I wouldn't be in Hector's bad graces. Besides, it's not just him. It appears that a group has organized itself in opposition of me."

Lyn stops brushing Florina's hair, who at this point had fallen asleep. She says, "Wha- What? An opposition?"

Samuel nods his head. Although he doesn't know if telling her about this is wise, the promise he made to his beloved takes precedence. The promise they made aboard the ship...

 _No more secrets, okay?_

He says, "Yeah, they call themselves the cell of dissent. We don't know how big they are, but their very existence is telling of my standing in this army. Although in the past I might've flexed widespread approval, now that is no longer the case."

"Samuel...I don't know what to say. Who's helping you? I noticed you said we."

"It's Matthew..."

 _!_

Suddenly, the tent flap flies open, sending a gust of air into the room. The force brings Florina up from her brief nap, and together, the three stare at the sweaty, red face of Erk.

Confused at his friend's interruption, Samuel asks, "Erk? What are you doing here?"

Frantic, Erk brushes some dust-laced sweat from his brow. Lyn immediately notices that his clothes are burnt, as if he'd taken a direct hit from a fire spell...

He replies, "I came to get you three! Get your weapons! We're under attack!"


	76. Ghost

**Chapter 69: Ghost**

 **By SodiumChloride12, derived from Fire Emblem, owned by Nintendo.**

 **A/N: Mr. Pikachu? Busted. Ekko jungle? Also busted. The AC at my apartment complex? Super busted.**

 **N: A mysterious figure prepares to make himself known. How will Samuel and the army react?**

* * *

 **?...**

A man bearing red robes looks down upon the valley below. His mind occupied with the converging armies nearby, heedless of the wind blowing through his garb atop the mountain. He eyes the ruins guarded by a powerful mage named Aion, and grits his teeth, the metallic taste of steel against his tongue.

 _That man will be responsible for many deaths if left to exact his will. What is the best course of action to take here...?_

"Master, the group is ready."

The man halts his thought and looks over his shoulder, resting his wrinkled face on a quartet composed of two knights and two snipers. His eyes rest on their gold ones, and committing their numbers to memory, he nods.

They speak in unison, "We require your orders. We live to serve you..."

"..."

His resolve made up, he turns away. The morphs only nod their heads in agreement and make preparations to descend. Their master has chosen to act. They will no longer stand from the shadows any longer...

Feeling a tingle in his heart, the man shakes his head. He'd made this decision many times before. Yet...this feeling always remains the same...the sense of doing something major to change destiny. He smiles...

 _Yes...my dear tactician. You and I will meet soon enough..._

* * *

 _Tactician's log, Entry for September 13th, 987._

 _Today didn't go very well. We stumbled upon the staked head of Oswin, and I got punched in the face by the younger brother of the man I'm contracted with for it. In addition, I've discovered the existence of the cell of dissent, a group formed in opposition to me. Things are steadily spiraling out of control, and I'm aware my continued participation in the army depends on my ability to perform. Although I currently still have the confidence of Lyn and Eliwood, that could change. Just like anything else._

 _Hopefully, Lord Uther remains in good health for the time being. If anything were to happen, that might spell some trouble for me…_

 _Funnily enough, it's not the worst thing to happen to me today. At around noon, we were ambushed by scouts on our way towards the Dragon's Gate, using the information Uhai gave us in his dying breath. Although I wasn't conscious to witness it, the gesture was honorable enough. I wonder if all plainsfolk from Sacae are this way...?_

 _I rallied the army together and strategized the best way to repel this threat. Unluckily for me, fate had more in store for us than a traditional engagement..._

 _In other words...I met a ghost._

* * *

 **Present...**

Samuel groans as a mage's fire spell slams into his chest. Recoiling backwards, his body slides against the forested ground before slowly skidding to stop before Huey's hooves. He looks straight up, into the girl's eyes, widened from having borne witness to that horrifying attack.

Samuel exclaims, "Don't just stand there! Hit him back!"

"Eeeeep!"

The tactician's raised voice compels Florina to action, and she takes to the skies as quickly as she can. Her steed zooms through the sky like a tomahawk missile, and Florina raises her lance in front of her just in time for its tip to impale Samuel's assailant. She and Huey take the man up high into the sky, giving the tactician enough time to recover his bearings.

Raising his head from the dirty, leaf littered ground, Samuel catches Lyn's eye, and she extends her hand towards him. He takes it and lands firm on unsteady feet.

Dusting off debris from his blackened chest plate, Samuel says, "Thanks..."

She replies sternly, "I didn't appreciate how you addressed her earlier, Lieutenant. You know she'll freeze up if she's stressed out too much."

Samuel pauses and then lowers his head. He knows exactly what Lyn is talking about. As capable of a soldier as Florina is, she has a tendency to fold to anything from a moderate to a severe amount of stress. This especially applies to him since Florina views him as a well-mannered, good-hearted individual. To snap this perception comes at great shock to the pegasus knight, and there have been periods in the past where a slip up in Samuel's composure led to her becoming unresponsive.

Samuel says, "I...my apologies. I just...got caught up in the moment."

Lyn frowns, but doesn't break eye contact. "I understand that, but Florina is a gentle soul. You must keep your head with her always. Anyway...that was a big hit you took earlier. Would you like a vulnerary?"

Samuel shakes his head, and shifts his gaze towards a couple mages to the south, near some ruins. For a moment, he thinks back on the events that led them to manning the southern front while the others funneled towards the center.

It all started when Erk found a great, rotted tree that, if taken west, would eventually lead to the Dragon's Gate. He motioned his arm towards the rest of the army to notify them of this important landmark, but just as he did, an arrow from an enemy archer nearly pinned his arm to the side of a tree. That was when he ran back towards the command tent to notify leadership of the appearance of the enemy, and upon the tactician's deployment of personnel, they moved to engage the enemy Fang that positioned themselves around a couple ancient structures dotting the landscape.

Samuel moves himself, Lyn, Florina, and Canas to deal with some anima mages who were harassing their forces. They all carry some advantage against these magicians, with Florina containing good resistance and speed, Lyn solely speed, Canas good resistance and a type advantage, and Samuel with his excellent resistance. The enemy outnumbered them eight to four, but Samuel doubted they'd pose much of a threat. The nearby trees and brush would do little to impede on their advance.

 _That's some very arrogant thinking, if I say so myself._ Samuel mused. _But I can't dedicate too many troops down here. With all this pressure bearing down, I need to make sure the main front succeeds. I can't afford another battle like yesterday's. We must win this victory, and with no casualties..._

 _Oh?_

Samuel squints his eyes as Florina returns with her breastplate blackened, hair disheveled, and lance bloodied with crimson. Despite the grim sight of her weapon, she still carries the meek face many in the army have grown accustomed to seeing. There's even some blood on her cheek, and the sight of it...

Samuel's blood goes cold, and he nearly faints again. However, he forces himself to keep his composure by recanting a mantra in his head, a phrase he'd taught himself to repeat every time he's about to lose his nerve.

 _Cool as ice. You're as cool...as the sturdiest...largest glaciers adorning the most northern reaches of Ilia..._

Florina says, "H-Hi! I d-did what you s-said!"

"You...did a good job. I'm...proud of you...Florina..."

Samuel _can't_ stop looking at blood covering Florina's porcelain-like skin. The sight brings mental snakes down his throat and reminds him of that time he struck her down in another life...

Tilting her head, Florina asks, "W-What's wrong? W-Why do you l-look like that? I k-knew I d-did something w-wrong."

Samuel frantically shakes his head. Partly so he wouldn't hurt Florina's feelings, and partly to stay on Lyn's good side. "N-No! You're fine! It's just that...that blood on your face. It's making me a bit sick..."

Lyn raises her brow at that remark, though says nothing. She takes out a handkerchief and hands it to Florina, who promptly wipes her face clean. Samuel breathes a sigh of relief.

Lyn says, "You can keep that. I know how Ilians feel about sharing blood-stained cloths."

"T-Thank you, Lyn."

 _!_

"These mages are troublesome, aren't they?"

The trio turn their heads to find Canas emerging from a clearing. His monocle is cracked from an earlier attack, but he's otherwise fine. Coming into the group, he smiles as he wipes some sweat from his forehead. "They are are powerful, but I've dealt with a couple of them on my own. What must we do next, Lieutenant?"

"Before we talk about that, how is the main front progressing? Well, I'd hope?"

Canas nods, "They are, but a sage is raining down Bolting on them. The electrical artillery slows our advance, and is responsible for plenty of injuries. Hector has requested you devise some way to counteract this capability of theirs, otherwise our clerics may soon be overwhelmed with the wounded. If we push our luck, someone could die."

Bolting. An anima spell that can assail powerful lightning several miles from the initial casting site. One blow could easily strike down any member of the army, though it would take a few to outright kill. Having one in play in any battle always shifts the balance of power. Unfortunately, Samuel doesn't have much experience with them, and this causes him to bite his lip.

 _Damnit...how do I deal with this...?_

* * *

 **Some distance away, in the ruins...**

Aion, an older man with green hair, big nose, and pompous attire fit for nobility, scratches his clean-shaven chin as he leans against a pillar supporting nearby ruins. The ruins themselves appear to be a former dwelling or temple of some bygone race, but Aion pays it no mind. He's completely entranced with his favorite toy, the almighty Bolting tome that weighs heavily in his hand.

 _Hehe...I wonder who I will hit next? The nimble pegasus knight with the blue hair, or the green-haired woman wearing the sacaen garb? Hmm...so many options...so little time..._

With a smile across his lips, Aion switches to the next page of his tome. He shouts the words he so cherishes, the enthusiasm in his words shaking the very foundation of the structure behind him.

"Certus fulgur, et adducere..."

 _!_

Suddenly, Aion hears a distorted sound from a minor fortress a mere fifty yards east of the ruins. Peering over at it, his mouth gapes as he sees two of his army's best mages fall effortlessly to the axes of two powerful warriors. They and two snipers form a perimeter around the fort, guarding the red robes of a figure the sage recognizes immediately.

He exclaims, "Kishuna?! What is that magic s— Ack!"

The very air around him changes to a hue of murky red. Aion falls to his knees, and around him all the magic units of his army do the same. All the mana in his system slowly drains from him...

"This... this must be a jest. What is that useless wretch doing here?! Ugh...I think I can stand..."

Aion shakily returns to his feet, but the fragility of his old age keeps him from moving from his spot. Strangely enough, the entourage around Kishuna stays stagnant, and beside the original display of aggression, they keep a defensive, passive posture around the magic seal. They seem to be more interested in merely existing than bringing havoc to the Fang, though that could pose its own set of problems _._

 _Damn it...I can't use my magic. What a show of fortune for these damned invaders. My strength has been greatly hindered..._

* * *

Lyn exclaims, "By Mother Earth, do you all see that?!"

The group opens their eyes in shock as a wide sphere of red encapsulates the valley. It's murky...but just translucent enough for their own visibility. A part of it extends out towards the group, with such velocity that it _just_ traps Samuel within its grasp.

"Ack!"

Samuel immediately drops to his knees and feels all of his energy leave him. The sensation doesn't hurt...but it _is very_ uncomfortable, and strangely familiar. He can't quite understand why, though...

"Oh no!"

"Lyn! Get back here!"

Without thinking, Lyn throws herself to pull Samuel out from the reddened air. She effortlessly plows into it and extracts the tactician by his collar, doing so with no loss of step. The pair return from the aura in an instant, and after a moment's rest, Samuel begins to feel his energy return to him. His fingers tingle with the light sensation of heat at their tips.

Lyn asks, "What...was that? I didn't feel anything from it...yet..."

Canas says, "It's...a magic seal...I think. I read a bit about it in a library in Illia. It's an aura that drains the mana from magic units. Kenan...you and I are better off sitting this one out."

 _Sitting this one out..._

Samuel takes a deep breath, feeling the weight of his lungs increase as he considers his friend's suggestion. The memory of his drained energies briefly push him to concede...but his will propels him further. Sitting out is the last thing he wants to do. Not when the lives of his allies, and the integrity of his reputation are on the line.

"No. I have this sword, and I can still fight. As tactician, I must use all available assets during battle. If I don't...they might hold me subject to incompetence..."

Balling up his fist, Samuel steps forward, back into the aura of red. As expected, he's immediately brought into one knee, but this time, his resolve pushes him to stand. He grits his teeth as the discomfort causes his skin to tingle, much to the disapproval of his peers behind him.

Lyn says, "What do you think you're doing?! Get back here! You'll hurt yourself!"

Canas adds, "I must agree with her, Lieutenant. There's no reason for you to be in there. Allow your allies to win the day."

"N-No. I'll be fine. Besides...I have a feeling I should be here. It's fate's will...I swear..."

Samuel hesitates. Even he has to admit these words feel too out-of-character for him. The slight, yet strict constriction in his heart is enough for him to discern what's going on, however.

 _These words…I'd never say something like that. This...must be her doing. She must be using that invisible hand of hers to manipulate my will._

Samuel closes his eyes, waiting for the voice of Ashera to chastise him for some accursed crime. Yet...it never comes. This episode of unsolicited dialogue wells from no other than himself...or some source undetectable to Samuel's senses. Given the absence of obvious external factors, the former is the most likely the case. Regardless, he's still committed to fighting alongside his allies. He'll fight until he has no strength left, even as this red aura continues to drain him.

Returning to the material world around him, he raises a brow when he realizes that Lyn and Florina now inhabit the surrounding space. They stand there in support of him, as abrasive as his decision may be.

Lyn says, "Ugh...you impulsive tactician. It's a shame you picked up that quality from me. I suppose that is a consequence of friendship."

 _A consequence of friendship...heh..._

Lyn reference of friendship is a short-handed admission to what's really going on. It's known by many that lovers often took on certain personality traits from each other. Here, Samuel's perceived impulsive decision to continue forward despite negative effects to his health came directly from Lyn's own impulsivity, of whom used that same sense to get them through their original adventure together. Although it benefited them then, like how she trusted Kent and Sain over six months ago, it has its drawbacks, such as when Lyn felt inclined to criticize Hector for his "barbaric" fighting style, or times like now.

Samuel sighs. In hindsight, it's very much like him to charge into a battle without so much as a thoroughly thought out plan. Regardless, he's still committed to fighting with his allies. He'll fight until he has no strength left, even as this red aura continues to drain that from him.

"Well, I suppose it's settled, then."

Watching as Samuel, Lyn, and Florina walk deeper into the sphere of doom, Canas frowns. It's not because of the uncomfortable feeling in his stomach...no. It's because of something much worse. Between the emergence of the magic seal, and the subsequent departure of his friends, he stands alone against five enemy mages lurking in the southern ruins.

 _Curses._ Canas thought. _I knew I should've said something!_

* * *

 **Far Away...**

Lani opens her eyes, frantically scanning around the small confines of her dark cell. Her heart aches as something blackens her soul. Something...is off. Something...sinister.

Desiring to stand on her own two feet, she pushes herself off the cold, cobbled floor. She flinches as she tries to ignore the remnants of blood from the several torture sessions they'd used attempting to break her, but somehow, her will stays steady. Perhaps it's because of her relation to her late mother, of whom was among the strongest of people to ever grace the land of Elibe. Or...perhaps it's from her tragic past in captivity with an array of abusive masters. Regardless, Lani saves her tears for when the men with the whips, chains, and other devices leave her presence. That's what her mother would've done.

 _Lani...if you're going to learn anything from...it's that you must never show your abusers weakness. To do so is to encourage them. Stay strong...but don't hold it in._

 _I love you, dear. Stay strong, no matter what happens._

Those words. "I love you." She'd only ever heard them come from two people, and neither of which were her father. That man never had a place in her life, and although Lani doesn't completely understand the story behind him, she knew better than to ask. All she knows is that one day, when her mom was held prisoner in the border, a ginger man with a freckled face hurt her. Then, about eight months later, she came to be. Her mother had no care for that man, and neither does she. But...she still longs for that father figure in her life.

Sammy. He...is the closest thing to a father she ever had. He treated her with such love and care, a stifling task considering the thick callouses that cover his hands. Yet, as an imperfect guardian as he can be sometimes, Lani wouldn't have anyone else in her life. She'd do anything to be back with him. Her dear uncle.

Lani winces in pain as her knees ache from the fractures they endured earlier. Tears flow from her face, free to fall with the absence of others. She works to shift her mind away from her fleeting mortality, and towards something more pleasant. Something...like her dream last night.

She recalls a scene in a small home somewhere in the plains. There, she was an older version of herself, and laughed as Sammy had her on his shoulders. Her happiness was nearly indescribable. But they weren't the only ones there. She saw the glowing, cheerful faces of other children a bit younger than her. They were a boy and a girl, having green and white hair, respectively.

The children were twins and spoke to Sammy like he was their father. Lani extended her arms towards them so she could play with them, and upon release from her elevated position, the trio ran through the front door without a care in the world. They frolicked through a wide, open plain just as a beautiful woman with long, green hair smiled in their direction...

 _!_

Lani's vision suddenly goes heavy. She staggers back, leg catching the wall just before she loses her balance. She's been standing for far too long. She needs to lie down again and save her strength.

Resting her head against the floor, she slowly closes her eyes. She whispers a brief prayer for the safety of Samuel, her supreme guardian.

 _Please be safe, Sammy. Let the arrows and blades of your enemies break on the shield of your will..._

 _...Come for me soon, I don't know how much more of this I can take. He wants my eyes, Sammy. He wants to kill me._

* * *

Stretching his arms against his body, Samuel feels the tingling around his body subside. His resistance hard at work, the effects of the magic seal were beginning to wear off on him, at least to where he isn't constantly leaking out mana. Thoroughly pleased with this fresh development, he trots over to the main army positioned at the side of a mountain, and joins the rest of his platoon as they prepare for battle.

Their group of three had since expanded to include Kent and Guy. The man and boy seem ready to take on the magic-less forces of the enemy, of which had taken a considerable blow with the introduction of the magic seal. Evidently, much more of the enemy force contained magic users than the allied army, and with that firmly in their minds, morale had increased across the board.

Nearby, Bartre smiles as he lifts his axe into the air. "This'll be an easy one, I know it! Let's crack some skulls!"

Wil taps the string of his bow, a hint of arrogance radiating from his finger. "Yesterday was only a mild setback to our pending victory. Let us give it our all!"

Even Hector joins in on the burgeoning rally cry. Pounding the sides of his _incredibly_ rickety armor, he clutches his fist and punches the air. The fire in his eyes is hot enough to burn down a forest. "Let the Fang know we will _not_ tolerate their barbaric ways! I myself will retrieve the head of the man who killed Oswin! I don't care if I have to cleave through an entire army to do it!"

Samuel balks, and though he views himself above following any mob mentality, he can't ignore the jitters inside his heart. For a moment, and a moment only, he forgets about the intrigue of his fellow soldiers, and smiles. Just an expression of goodwill, only meant for himself.

Clearing his throat, Kent nears his horse towards Samuel. "Lieutenant, we will soon enter the valley and have the enemy cornered. What are your orders?"

 _My orders..._

Samuel digs into his pocket and retrieves a short sheet of parchment. As a man who often forgets things, minor notes like these help him keep his thoughts together. He reads it thoroughly, and afterward which crumples it up. The message is simple.

 _Act aggressively. Conserve nothing. Give them everything you have, all at once. Don't wait for them to attack you. Offense is the best defense…_

Remember what they did to Oswin...

Looking his knight in the eye, Samuel speaks with a voice that's cold and authoritative. It reminds Kent of the way Captain Wallace used to address him when he was a mere squire.

"Total frontal assault." He says. "No prisoners...and don't hold back."

Don't hold back. How he would learn to regret those words...

* * *

 **?...**

 _"They were much less threatening without their magic."_

 _"Don't underestimate them, Eliwood. You know what they did to Oswin."_

 _"Fair enough. Lieutenant, their leader is all that's left. Though, I think we've found the source of the magic seal."_

 _"The source? I'll go check it out. You three can apprehend the leader. He's borderline useless, so I doubt he'll be much trouble."_

 _"Are you sure about that? You heard what Hector said. We shouldn't underestimate them."_

 _"F-Fear not, Lady Lyn. Huey and I will go with him."_

 _"I see..."_

 _"...I doubt they're our enemies. They did us a huge service by disabling the magic in this area. I'm quite interested to speak to this...man? He has a wrinkly face...but I can't see his eyes."_

 _"Take care of yourselves. If anything happens, don't hesitate to run. My Sacaen blood will run cold if something were to happen to you two."_

* * *

 **?...**

Samuel wakes in a blackened room, his arms and legs bound tight to the sides of a metal chair. His head feels heavy, as if splurging with water. His lungs heave unsteadily, and shifting his eyes around, he tries to discern what's going on. He sees four cobblestone walls dripping with moisture, and a single candle standing on a table of unknown wood. It gives off an ominous orange glow, clawing out against the dim air as a wil-o-wisp roaming through the forest.

"Mmph?"

 _What?_

His face is gagged, and a thick, white cloth covering his mouth. It's bound so tight that Samuel can hardly breathe, and the wet, stale taste of saliva suggests he's been here for a long time. Leaning his head back against his chair's sturdy head, he tries to piece together what happened prior to this point.

 _I...remember voices. They belonged to my allies. Was...it all a fever dream? No, that makes little sense. I don't get sick. I'm a morph, after all. But why is there a tremendous gap in my memory? Last thing I recall was that I left with Florina to investigate the source of the magic seal..._

 _!_

 _Florina!_

Samuel swerves his head to the right, loosening the grip of his restraints just enough to brush his nose against a piece of lavender hair. He realizes that a chair stood side by side to his own, belonging to the pegasus knight he'd ventured with before. The residual pollen stirs up some discomfort from his nose, and compels him to sneeze.

"Achoo!"

"Bless you."

An unfamiliar voice calls out to him, and Samuel's frenzied eyes startle open. He tries to turn his head further to find the source, but the ropes tying his body are too tight. He squirms as hard as he can to free himself, only to bruise when his ribs rub against the thick material.

"Stop struggling, you'll hurt yourself or Miss Florina, there."

Samuel feels a cold force come up beside him, just out of his sight. It reaches out towards the gag with its equally chilly hand and pulls it down so he can speak. Heaving from the combined result of his previous efforts and his lack of breath, Samuel barely puts together some words.

"Bless...you. How did you...no...worse yet. How do you know our names? Why have you kidnapped us?"

The _being_ responds with a voice that's distorted and nearly impossible to discern. It reminds Samuel of one of those automated recordings he'd hear from a computer. "Don't worry about that. I have you right where I want you."

Samuel gulps, an anxious bead of saliva sliding down to his Adam's apple. Samuel is afraid. _Deathly_ afraid. To him, nothing is more frightening than to disappear from the earth with no trace for one's friends to track him down. It's as though his person had suddenly come across the monster in a horror flick, except this monster doesn't show its face.

 _What frightening way to go._ Samuel thinks. _I'm going to be cut up by some faceless marauder. Oh Mama, I'm coming home..._

 _!_

Samuel senses some rumbling in the chair behind him. Florina's awake. She opens her eyes and half-consciously scans the room, going through the same events her tactician had undergone earlier. Eventually, she comes to the cruel realization of her current situation. Her voice sputters like a cart quickly coming to a stop. "Huh? W-Where am I? W-Why am I tied up?! Lyn!"

The voice cooly replies, "You are in good hands, Florina. You always were an anxious one. Calm yourself."

The... _inhuman_ nature of its voice does the exact opposite of what it intends. Florina only struggles more against her bonds, doing so with so much force she nearly tips herself _and_ Samuel onto the ground. The latter catches them with his foot before that happens, however.

He says, "Florina, please. You need to calm down. I'm here. It's okay."

"Kenan? Y-You're here?"

Florina stops shaking violently, though her hands still shiver with fright. Samuel pushes against the ground and puts them back on stable footing. Satisfied in his endeavor to avoid injury, he turns his ear back towards the force lingering towards his left.

He says, "Okay, what do you want with us?

The voice ignores his question. "She...called you Kenan. You haven't told her your true identity yet, have you Samuel?"

 _Samuel..._

Upon hearing that name, Florina panics again. Her heart beats so fast that Samuel can feel her pulse through the vein on the back of her head. She says, "S-S-Samuel?! Y-You...are Azazel?!"

Samuel shoots back, "You lying cunt! My name is Kenan Vacia! How dare you find pleasure in terrifying my friend!"

The voice... _chuckles_. Subject to the human emotion of amusement, this confirms one thing in Samuel's mind. Their captor is not a morph. Devoid of emotion, morphs don't chuckle or laugh...right?

It (?) says, "Haha...I suppose I've said too much. But fear not. I'm the last person to derive happiness from harming Florina. By the way...I can tell that you don't know who I am. Although I can't inform you of everything, know that I am a man. Much like yourself."

 _A human._ Samuel thought. _This man is...a human. That means if I can pry myself loose, I can beat him! Or at least buy enough time to get Florina out of here._

Samuel closes his eyes, and slows his breathing to calm himself. He visualizes phasing through the ropes that bind his body to the chair, trying to replicate the instance which happened on the scaffold in his first life...

The voice says, "That won't work here. You should know by now that we're in the Void. You are a voidwalker, anyway."

The voice's remark breaks his train of thought, and Samuel bites his lip. He asks, "And what is the name of the man who knows so much about me?"

The voice pauses for a moment. After what felt like an eternity, he replies, "I suppose you could call me Kishuna."

 _Kishuna..._

Florina asks, "W-Why do you know my name, Mr. K-Kishuna?"

Kishuna pauses for a moment, considering the proposition. His breath hum with a mechanical rhythm, inclining to Samuel's he's likely of old age. After what feels like an eternity, he finally succumbs to an opportunity too interesting to pass up.

"…I know many things about you, little Pegasus Knight. I suppose you could say it came from...several lifetimes of experience. My apologies, however. This entire arrangement was an accident. I had taken you two here since I had forgotten you weren't...Kenan's confidant. It's a shame, really. By some anomaly in my calculations, he had chosen the princess as his. I must say it was unforeseen, and completely unplanned."

 _Unplanned?_

Kishuna's words make Samuel feel like some science experiment gone wrong. For Florina, it's much worse. The confusion coupled with the fear in her heart overwhelms her, and faced with nothing else, she cries.

"Ah...mmh...sniff..."

Kishuna says, "Huh? Please, don't cry. You'll only have to bear with me for a few more minutes. Your friends are at the cusp of recovering your sleeping bodies. Once they resort to some water on your face to wake you, you'll be free from the grip of the Void."

Samuel asks, "Then why don't just let us go? Let us stretch our legs—"

"No. I know how that princess has affected you. You're much more impulsive than you should be. You'll attack me without a moment's hesitation, won't you?"

This man's knowledge about intricate details about his life is disturbing. Yes, Samuel would've undoubtedly punched this man the first chance he got. But he doesn't like how he's addressing his beloved. The fair lady from Sacae, Lyn.

He says, "Leave Lyn's name off your tongue. You refer to her like she's some poison to my being. I'll have you know she's an honourable person, unfit to share the same air as you."

Kishuna replies, "Heh, figures. That's what they all say. These blasted nobles. Tell me, do you still fancy yourself an egalitarian? Or do you fall in line with the divine mandate they tell the masses to justify their rule?"

In Elibe, the vast majority of governments are based around the system of absolute monarchy. This means a single monarch held supreme authority towards a state, whether it be in affairs of diplomacy, public relations, economy, and ultimately, their citizen's' well being. They wield the power to conduct their territory in any way they see fit, usually at the cost of the peasant underclass. This system disgusted Samuel for its backward exploitation of the peasantry, hence his overall distaste for nobility.

Samuel opens his mouth to reply, but Florina beats him to it. She replies, "D-Don't talk bad about L-Lady Lyn! She's not a b-bad person! She c-cares about the people of C-Caelin! The word of Elimine m-makes it so that people like her can rule f-for the g-good of everyone!"

Kishuna scoffs, "You really believe that? Hmph, I suppose I shouldn't expect anything less from you. You are a knight who has a blind devotion to your liege. Besides, it's not in your nature to fight against what's comfortable for you...is it?"

"Uh..."

Florina goes silent, her tongue heavy with self-doubt. The anxiety in her heart entraps her in its grip again. She lowers her head, allowing Samuel to dwell on his speech.

He says, "I...consider myself an egalitarian. I believe everyone should have the same opportunity to prove themselves worthy in this world, and if it were up to me, I'd abolish the nobility and create an alternative system where everyone can have self-determination. In other words, the establishment of a democracy. Yet, I understand that's outside of my capabilities, and of the mainstream. Views like these are considered extreme in the current landscape, and if I told either of my superiors about this, they'd likely hang me for conspiracy immediately."

Kishuna says, "Interesting. Yet, you went out and infatuated yourself with the likes of a noble woman instead of a commoner. What a hypocrite you are. Florina, at least, has the excuse of not having the education or the sense of rebellion that you possess. She's lived her whole life being taught her life's goal was the die for the will of a power-hungry noble. You, on the other hand, are college educated. You are a traitor towards the people you call your friends, and the vilest of scum."

!

A sting of pain assails Samuel as Kishuna's stiff hand slaps him across his face. He grits his teeth, but says nothing out of shame. Shame for what he knows inside is the truth.

"I was considering telling you here, but I think your mind is too tainted and diseased by that...woman. I'll give you some time to rethink your ideals. But in the meanwhile..."

Kishuna slides his right hand over to Samuel's shoulder, who shudders. It feels cold and incredibly bone-like. No...bone is too soft of a term. Metallic, like the ends of bear trap digging into his flesh.

"Know that my eyes are always upon you. I'll do whatever it takes to accomplish my goal. It doesn't matter if I have to kill or maim, and I'll snatch you from the clutches of Nergal again if I have to. It doesn't matter if it's in Ilia, or some other foreign land."

Samuel exclaims, "What?! Ilia?! You were there?"

Kishuna laughs sinisterly, his voice briefly resembling a villain's. The tone behind it shakes both Samuel and Florina down to the bone and entraps them both in a veil of fear.

He says, "Hehe...I thought you'd know about that by now. You didn't get suspicious when you _magically_ woke up unharmed atop that snow-capped hill? I thought you were smarter than that."

Kishuna's condescending words strike deep. Still searching for answers, Samuel asks, "You still leave me with plenty of unanswered questions. Who are y—"

"Too late for that now. It would appear that your friends have arrived..."

Suddenly, a pillar of light erupts from the sky. It penetrates through the surrounding darkness and illuminates the black room in its power. The sight blinds both Samuel and Florina, the latter squealing with surprise for this unfamiliar phenomenon.

"Eeeeeep! Help me!"

Then, black. As is customary with the never-ending expanse of the Void.

* * *

Florina opens her eyes, and feels a drop of cold sweat slide down the side of her face. She drearily blinks and notices blankets covering her lower body, an ice pack firmly placed on her forehead, what appears to be hot tea on her bedside, and blood stained bandages wrap her elbows. Leaning her head forward, she spies several developing figures in her hazy eyesight.

A familiar voice calls out to her. It's feminine and smooth like molasses. "Oh? Careful there, Florina. Don't push yourself too hard. Lie back down."

It's Priscilla. Comfortable following her medic's advice, she does as she's told. She senses a warm hand remove her ice pack and feel her head, though this one isn't from the red-haired troubadour. Her hands are too calloused to be of the sort, likely belonging to someone accustomed to hand-to-hand combat.

"You're burning up. That magic seal must've hit you with some sickness. I'm baffled, though. Why hasn't the Lieutenant not experienced any symptoms, either?"

Lady Lyn. Florina feels a sting of guilt for having her liege look over her when it should be the other way around, but she's in no condition to contest. She winces in pain just as the fever bears down on her, earlier numbed by the initial grace period of waking consciousness. Her breathing becomes short and staggered, as if a man were choking her windpipe.

"...Ack...ugh...Lyn. Where..."

Lyn hushes her and tucks her friend back towards her blankets. She tucks her in with her blankets along with providing a fresh pack of ice. "Shh, it's okay. We found you and Kenan unconscious by the magic seal. He was...an ugly sort. I didn't get to see his eyes...but no matter. We dispatched his bodyguards and rescued you two without trouble."

Another voice permeates through the haze, this time sounding studious. It has a bit of elegance behind his accent, one Florina vaguely recognizes as belonging to Canas.

He says, "Without trouble is too liberal a term. Florina is experiencing the symptoms of unacclimated exposure to the void. It's a wonder she made it out when she did. If she hadn't, she likely would have lost her memories by now, if not gone outright mad."

Another voice interjects, this time belonging to Eliwood. "But...why hasn't Kenan been affected by this? He only lost consciousness for a few moments before helping us get Florina to the medical tent. Do you have something to say about this, Lieutenant?"

The Lieutenant clears his throat, and suddenly, Florina feels a tinge of fear upon noticing his presence. Kishuna's words echo in her mind, unforgettable.

 _She...called you Kenan. You haven't told her your true identity yet, have you Samuel?_

"I...possess an unnatural amount of resistance. That must be the case, assuming the ailment is of magical origin. Poor Florina must feel terrible, if not a bit forgetful for what happened in that accursed domain."

Florina _does_ feel terrible, though not for reasons she'd rather share. Crippling anxiety keeps her mouth quiet, and hoping to feign amnesia, she mutters a single phrase. "...What?"

Lyn shakes her head and pats her friend lovingly atop her head. She waves towards the rest of her friends to leave, and they oblige without a moment's hesitation.

Florina asks, "Where...are you going?"

Lyn smiles reassuringly. "We're going to leave you here with Priscilla to rest up with some of the army. I'm afraid Ninian disappeared during the battle. We will go out to look for her. Just...take care. Don't stress yourself."

"...O-Okay..."

Lyn hesitates, as she senses some...emotion hidden behind Florina's speech. Still, she ignores it, at least for the time being...

Besides, there are much more important things to attend to. Ninian is missing. Knowing the weird goings on in the isle, she could be in serious trouble.


End file.
